The Education of Peeta Mellark
by atetheredmind
Summary: "Somehow I've managed to find the most attractive third-year virgin on this campus." She laughed lightly. "I'm going to have a lot of fun with you." Peeta Mellark might be the smartest guy at their school, but Katniss Everdeen still has quite a few things to teach him. Rated for future lemons.
1. Chapter 1

It was the first day of their Human Anatomy and Physiology lab when he saw her.

She walked into the classroom, all long legs and dark hair. Peeta gulped, actually _gulped_, when she strolled through the doorway, apparently the last person to arrive. She didn't even acknowledge the instructor as she surveyed the rows of desks, looking for an empty seat. His eyes darted nervously to the vacant spot next to him; there was at least one other empty chair in the back of the classroom, and he kind of hoped she'd take that one instead.

But she plopped down beside him, dropping her messenger bag on the table unceremoniously. She flashed him a polite smile, and his lips spasmed in some sort of awkward greeting before he trained his eyes ahead of him, straining to pay attention to the instructor. He knew he needed to pay attention—but he could _smell_ her beside him, and it was distracting. It was kind of a smoky musk scent, with hints of vanilla and wood, like ebony. It made him feel heady.

"Hi."

He blinked a few times when he realized she was talking to him. He glanced at her, and she smiled wider. "I'm Katniss," she whispered, fumbling through her bag for a pen and a notebook. The bracelets on her arm jingled.

"Uh..." His eyes darted back to the TA, who was still explaining the lab and passing out copies of the syllabus. "Peeta," he whispered, his voice even quieter than hers, afraid of inciting the instructor's annoyance.

"Hi, Peeta. Did I miss anything important?" she asked, keeping her voice low. She pushed her bag out of the way and flipped her notebook open. He just shook his head, eagerly accepting the stack of papers when it was passed his way. He grabbed a syllabus and handed the rest to her. She smiled at him again, licking her fingers to peel a page off from the rest, then she twisted in her chair to pass the stack to the student behind her. Her cut-off jean shorts rode up higher on her thighs, revealing the starting swell of her ass, and he forced himself to look away. He really didn't need a boner right then.

He was relieved when she didn't try to engage him further, and he could focus on the class instruction. But toward the end of the lab, when the TA directed them to pick a partner for the rest of the semester and get acquainted, Katniss turned back to him.

"So, Peeta. You look pretty smart. Wanna be my partner?" she asked nonchalantly, and he tried not to flush. He really didn't talk to a lot of girls—aside from Delly, whom he had known as long as he could remember—and the prospect of having to interact and actually engage in conversations with one as pretty as the girl next to him for five whole months was almost overwhelming.

"Um, um, sure," he finally sputtered when she quirked an eyebrow at his hesitation. Her lips spread into another smile, and she twisted her long braid around her finger.

"Perfect. So, _Peeta_," she paused, emphasizing his name a little too much. "You a biology major?"

"Uh, yeah."

When he didn't elaborate, she continued, "Second-year? Third-year?"

He cleared his throat, fidgeting with his pen on the table. "Third-year."

Her smile widened. "This is my third year, too." He nodded, unsure of what else to say, despite her expectant gaze. She sighed in his silence. "Now's the time when you ask something like, 'Are you also a biology major?'"

This time he blushed. "Oh, sorry. I, uh, are you also a biology major?"

She nodded, leaning back in her chair to cross her legs. He couldn't help it; his eyes flitted down to the naked expanse of her olive-skinned thighs, down her toned calves to her dainty ankles where her flip-flop smacked against her heel as she jiggled her foot. He dragged his gaze back up to her face, lingering only momentarily on her shoulder, left bare by the draping neckline of her oversized shirt. Her black bra strap cut into her flesh, and he noticed a tiny mole on her clavicle. When he met her gaze, she squinted at him, searching his eyes. He was certain his face was red, and he opened his mouth to apologize—for what, he wasn't sure, but she had to have noticed him blatantly checking her out. The instructor cut him off, thankfully, to conclude the lab, and he hurriedly shoved his notebook into his backpack.

"Hold up, let me give you my number," Katniss said suddenly, and he gaped at her as she scribbled on a page in her notebook.

"Uh, why?" he asked stupidly when she ripped the corner of the paper off and handed it to him. She just smirked.

"If we're gonna be lab partners, I'm assuming we might need to communicate on future projects and homework," she explained like it was the simplest thing in the world. She shrugged. "I also included my email—it's my Gmail account, so you can hit me up on Gchat, too, if you want."

Stuffing her notebook into her bag, she stood up and hooked it over her shoulder so it rested on the opposite hip. "See you later, partner," she said with a wink, breezing out of the classroom. Peeta stared after her before he glanced down at the scrap of paper in his hand, his eyes tracing the loops of her neat handwriting; she had scrawled her gmail account, _catnip0508, _under her phone number.

It was the first girl's phone number he had ever gotten.

* * *

Peeta kept the scrap of paper tucked safely between the first two pages of his day planner. He was sure he would never actually use it—Katniss was probably just being polite by giving it to him—but he thought it would be rude to just chuck it. So every time he flipped open his planner to scribble down his assignments, he hesitated on the page, fingering the wrinkled scrap of paper before slamming the little book shut. She was way out of his league, anyway. Way too pretty, way too confident. If he were anything like his roommate Finnick, he could easily message her on Gchat, flirt with her some like it was no big deal, probably even ask her out on a date. But he wasn't a playboy in the slightest.

She had only asked to be his partner because he looked smart. And he _was_ smart; he graduated top of his class in high school, was even the valedictorian (though his school was kind of small, so that helped). He was studying to get a bachelor of science in biology; after he graduated, he hoped to get into his university's med school and eventually become a doctor. His mother wanted him to be a neurosurgeon or a cardiologist, something she deemed "more prestigious," but he really wanted to be a pediatrician. He loved working with kids.

Katniss probably partnered with him because she thought she could get him to do all the work. She didn't look like she took the lab seriously at all, with how late she had strolled in the first day. He was annoyed at the idea, that she thought she could just flash a little skin and smile sweetly at him and he'd just blindly do whatever she asked him to—and, well, maybe he would. His studies were important to him, and he wasn't going to let someone else potentially drag his grades down.

But that didn't mean he had to be happy while doing it.

Unbidden, he found himself looking for her in the instruction portion of the anatomy course. The class was much larger than the lab, about 100 students. He half-expected her not to show up, but he finally spotted her across the way, her raven hair pulled over her shoulder in a braid. She sat next to a blonde girl, and they whispered and giggled occasionally; he couldn't help but scowl. Did she take anything seriously?

By the time the next lab rolled around, he was surprised when she arrived early, sliding into the chair next to him. "Hi, Peeta," she greeted him warmly, and he had to remind himself to actually speak and not just stare at her mutely.

"Um, hi," he said, fumbling with his anatomy textbook. He flipped to the chapter they had been assigned for homework and pretended to read it, even though he'd already read it. Twice. He thought he could feel her eyes boring into the side of his head.

"You ready to dissect a cat today?" she asked, and he was nearly startled out of his skin when she leaned closer, bumping his arm with hers. There was that smell again. She wore a dress today, a little bit longer than her shorts had been, and she also had on a pair of worn, brown, lace-up combat boots, so at least less of her legs were exposed. He swallowed, forcing his gaze to her face. Up close, he could tell her eyes were gray—silver almost—and the bridge of her nose was kissed by the faintest of freckles.

"Yeah, uh, I think so," he said, leaning away from her just a little bit. He wasn't trying to be rude; her proximity just made him uncomfortable, and he could barely think straight. She didn't seem to notice, at least, and she propped her elbow on the table, resting her head against her fist.

"You're not squeamish, are you?" she challenged, a glint in her eyes, and he frowned.

"No, I—no." Did he look like the squeamish type? If anything, he was worried about _her_ freaking out during the dissection and leaving him to do all the dirty work.

Katniss grinned, sitting back in her chair as the instructor started class by passing out quizzes. "Good," she said smugly. He shook his head, pushing his thoughts away so he could focus on the assignment.

After the quiz was over, and once they had donned their appropriate safety equipment and received the bag with their dead cat, he drained it of its embalming fluids before placing it on the tray on their table. Katniss leaned against the desk opposite him, watching as he cut into the feline's fur with a pair of scissors while she sketched out a diagram of the cat. "I used to have a cat that looked like this," she mused, and he glanced up at her quizzically. She was watching his hands closely, but she didn't look fazed. "His name was Buttercup. He got hit by a car, though."

He frowned. "I'm...sorry to hear that." She shrugged.

"Whatever. I never liked the stupid thing. My sister was pretty upset, though. He had gotten out through the back door, and she accused me of leaving it open on purpose."

Peeta's hands stilled, the scissors gripped tightly between his fingers. "Did you?" he asked, and she just smirked at him. Holy shit. Maybe she was a sociopath. His mouth parted in horror, but her laughter cut him off.

"No, I'm kidding. I would never do that to my sister," she said, waving him off, and his face relaxed, relieved. "He was an old cat. He died of natural causes. I was just yanking your chain."

He frowned, anyway, returning to the task at hand. She could still be a sociopath. Sociopaths lied a lot.

Once he'd made all the appropriate cuts, he set the scissors down and moved to remove the skin, but her gloved hand touched his. "May I?" she asked, surprising him.

"Uh, sure," he said, stepping aside so she could slide in front of him. Her ass grazed his groin, and he coughed, quickly moving to the other side of the desk to watch her. His mouth dropped as she quickly, and efficiently, skinned the cat; she didn't even tear up any of the underlying tissue or muscle. "Wow," he breathed, and she grinned at him, handing him the pelt.

"I've skinned a lot of animals," she replied. "I grew up in the mountains. We're a weird bunch."

Shaking his head, he took the fur to the sink to ring it out, and when he returned, she had already skinned the tail and the legs and was working on the head. He guessed he had been wrong about her, after all; she seemed pretty eager to do the work.

At the end of the lab, Peeta was wiping down their table when she sidled up to his side, having put their cat away. She braced her hip against the desk, folding her arms over her chest, and he looked up at her in confusion. "So, I gave you my contact info, but you should probably give me yours, too, just in case. Unless you don't think your girlfriend would like that," she said casually, arching an eyebrow.

His cheeks reddened, and he stood up straight. "Uh, I don't—I don't have a girlfriend," he stuttered, dropping the sponge to the desk and pulling his notebook out of his backpack. Katniss smiled, one corner of her mouth curling upward.

"Lucky me," she teased, and his eyes widened, but he hastily scribbled his information on a page and ripped it out, hoping she didn't notice how flushed his face had become. She plucked the paper from his hand, her fingers skimming his, and she read it.

"Mellarky?" she inquired, reading his email, and he cleared his throat.

"It's, ah, my last name is Mellark," he replied, feeling stupid already, but she smiled toothily at him.

"I get it. That's cute," she said, stuffing the scrap into a pocket on her jean jacket. Then she squeezed his arm. "I'll talk to you later then, Mellark." And she was gone. He stared after her stupidly, the last one in the classroom.

_Talk to you later?_ She wasn't actually going to chat him up outside of the lab, was she? _Don't be an idiot_, he chastised himself, dropping the sponge into a bucket on his way out.

* * *

He was sitting at his laptop in his bedroom, working on an essay, when he decided to check his email for a brief distraction. After deleting some spam, he was just about to sign out when a chat invitation popped up. From Katniss Everdeen. His pulse quickened, and he panicked, briefly debating whether he should sign out and act like he never saw it. But she was his lab partner, and he didn't have a good reason to avoid her—aside from being nervous as hell.

He accepted the chat after a couple minutes, trying not to seem too eager or like he had nothing else to do.

**Katniss:** you're up late mellark  
_Sent at 12:13 AM on Thursday_  
**Peeta:** working on a paper  
**Katniss: **ah  
should I leave you alone then?  
_Sent at 12:16 AM on Thursday_

Should she? Peeta drummed his fingers on his desk, staring at his screen. He really needed to finish his paper, so he probably _should_ sign off. But he didn't really want to. He'd probably say something to scare her off in a few minutes, anyway, so he could spare a few more minutes of distraction.

**Peeta:** no, it's cool  
**Katniss: **good :)  
what class is the paper for?

A smiley face. His heart skipped a beat. Was she flirting with him? He ran a hand through his blonde curls before responding.

**Peeta:** molecular basis of disease  
**Katniss:** oh with prof coin?  
**Peeta:** yeah  
**Katniss:** she's a hard-ass huh?  
**Peeta:** yeah she is  
**Katniss:** yea i took that class last semester  
let me know if you ever need any help studying for the exams :)

There it was. Another smiley face. Peeta didn't know what to make of it or her offer to help him study. He didn't think he would need it, and maybe she was just offering to be nice. She probably wasn't serious.

**Peeta:** ok thanks  
_Sent at 12:17 AM on Thursday_  
so do you know what you wanna do when you graduate?  
**Katniss:** apply for grad school here  
but ultimately, i think i'd like to be a research scientist or something  
discover cures for diseases and shit  
so watch out, i just might discover the cure for cancer

He smiled to himself. He was sure by that point the cure for cancer would already be discovered—if it wasn't already—but at least she was ambitious.

**Peeta:** well, then i won't be surprised  
**Katniss:** :)  
and what do you want to do?  
**Peeta:** go to med school and become a pediatrician  
**Katniss:** that's cool  
_Sent at 12:21 AM on Thursday_  
my sister wants to be a doctor too  
maybe i should set you two up  
she's still in high school tho  
_Sent at 12:22 AM on Thursday_

He frowned at the computer, baffled. She wasn't serious, was she?

**Peeta:** uhh  
**Katniss:** i'm kidding  
if you laid a hand on her, i would skin you like i did that cat  
**Peeta:** ha ok  
**Katniss:** besides  
i wanna keep you all to myself ;)

His pulse quickened as he reread her last message four, five times. She was flirting with him, now he was sure of it. He had no idea how to respond, his fingers frozen over the keyboard. Before he knew it, five minutes had lapsed with no response from him.

**Katniss:** well i should let you get back to your paper  
see you in lab tomorrow  
_Katniss is offline_

Fuck. He cursed himself mentally for not being able to think of a reply fast enough. Now she was going to think he wasn't interested.

That thought pulled him up short. He _wasn't_ interested. Was he? Katniss was cute—no, cute was a puppy, cute was a little girl playing dress-up in her mother's high heels. Katniss was...sexy. And gorgeous. And sharp as a whip. And smart, smarter than he'd originally given her credit for. He had misjudged her. She intrigued him, definitely, but he really didn't have time for a relationship.

The thought made him want to laugh out loud. Like Katniss Everdeen wanted a relationship with him. He was awkward and socially inept; he didn't know the first thing about flirting or courting a girl, especially a girl like her. She would eat him alive.

No, Katniss Everdeen had no interest in him. She was just joking with him, like she always did. With a heavy sigh, Peeta signed out of his email and clicked on his Word document. He really needed to finish his essay.

* * *

His palms started sweating the moment she walked into the classroom; he had no idea how to act around her now, or how she was going to act around him. He braced himself for the cold shoulder, or at the very least, casual indifference.

So when Katniss smiled at him like they were the best of friends, his mouth went dry. He squeaked out a hello when she greeted him, jiggling his leg under the table nervously.

"Did you get your paper done?" she asked, twisting in her seat to face him. Her knees bumped up against his thigh; her legs were spread casually, but her short, flowy skirt draped just enough to conceal the juncture of her thighs but still reveal a lot of skin. He groaned inwardly, trying to keep his line of sight trained on her face.

"Uh, yeah, I did," he said, his lips twitching into an uncomfortable smile.

"What time did you get to bed?"

"Um." He racked his brain, tapping his pen on his notebook. "It was around 2."

She frowned slightly, her fingers stroking her braid. "I hope I didn't distract you too much."

"No, uh, no, you were fine," he interjected quickly, and his ears grew warm at his own eagerness. She didn't need to know that he'd actually lay in bed long after 2 a.m., thinking about her. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Good. So, what's on the menu today?" she asked, leaning closer to peer over his arm at the syllabus in his notebook. "I forgot to look ahead."

Peeta went to scan the syllabus for the schedule, but he nearly jumped out of his seat when her hand slid over his thigh, coming to rest precariously close to his groin. His first instinct was to jerk away, but when he looked at her face, she seemed oblivious to the situation; her eyes were still trained on his syllabus, as if her fingers weren't in fact inching toward his dick. Where all his blood was suddenly rushing to. His face burned as he cleared his throat, quickly searching the schedule. "Um, looks like—looks like we're dissecting..." His eyes widened slightly as he read the words. Great. "Bull testicles."

"Huh," she said, amusement lacing her voice. "Should be fun." She squeezed his thigh lightly before withdrawing her hand, just as the TA started class. He really hoped she didn't notice how tight his jeans had gotten, and he scooted his chair farther under the table to hide his excitement. Getting through this lab was going to be torture.

Luckily, Katniss kept her hands above his waist the rest of class while they dissected the bovine scrotum. She brushed up against him a lot, though, touched his arm or his back, and every time she did, he was afraid he was going to slice through the spermatic cord. Did she realize how much she was flustering him? He couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose or not. Maybe she was just a really touchy-feely kind of person and had no idea how much her feathery touches were bothering him.

"Is this your last class of the day?" she asked, lingering behind to wait for him as he packed up his stuff. He looked at her in surprise, shrugging his bag over his shoulders.

"Uh, yeah," he said, heading out the door, and she fell in step beside him.

"Cool, me too. Got plans tonight?"

He glanced at her sharply. "Uh, no, not really. Was just gonna—go home and eat, do my homework." _Come up with some excuse to wave off another one of Finnick's invitations to a party most likely_, he added silently.

She smiled up at him. She walked so close to him, her arm kept brushing against his. "Well, I need to eat dinner, too. Wanna grab something together?"

He nearly tripped on the steps as they walked out of the building. Was that a joke? He kept waiting for her to start laughing in his face, but she just looked at him expectantly. "Uhhh—"

She cut him off, grabbing his arm. "I won't take no for an answer. Come on, there's this great pizza place off campus; it's not far. Let's go, partner!"

Peeta wasn't sure if they were on a date or not; he was inclined to think not, because she had paid for her own food, and he, his. But he found out a lot about her; she talked about her classes, her roommate Madge and her waitressing job. She mostly talked a lot about her sister, Prim. Peeta could tell she adored her a lot. He told her some about his two older brothers, but he was content with letting her dominate the conversation. He was usually too tongue-tied around women to engage them in anything more than superficial pleasantries, if that, so he was just going to let her steer the dialogue.

He still wasn't convinced it was a date until she asked him to walk her back to her apartment.

"It's not far, I promise," she swore, motioning him in the direction of her apartment, and he followed after her, hooking his thumbs around his backpack straps. They had been at the restaurant for a while; it was nearly 8. He was starting to worry about what was supposed to happen when they reached her apartment. She wasn't expecting a kiss, was she? His neck flushed at the thought, and he quickly shook it away. That was laughable. He was getting ahead of himself.

He was too worked up to really engage in their conversation on their way to her place, but if she noticed, she didn't say anything. "Here we are. I'm on the third floor," she said, turning to head inside her apartment building. He guessed she expected him to follow. Raking a hand through his hair, he followed her up the stairs. She paused outside her door, turning to look up at him. "Thanks for accompanying me to dinner, Peeta. I had a good time."

He looked around anxiously, too scared to meet her gaze directly. "Uh, yeah, I did, too. Thanks for, uh, thanks for inviting me."

Katniss smiled, but she stared at him intently. His heart was racing, unsure what he should do. His first instinct was to run; he had just made up his mind to tell her goodbye when she stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and rendering him speechless. She was hugging him. Awkwardly, his hands gripped her shoulders, and she tucked her head under his chin. Her perfume filled his nostrils, that vanilla and ebony aroma, and he thought he was going to choke on his tongue.

She pulled her head back slightly to peer up at him, a playful glint in her eyes, and he didn't realize she had backed him up against the wall beside her front door until his backpack pressed into his shoulders. Dumbfounded, he stared down at her; her hands curled into fists in his shirt, and she stretched up on her toes to lift her face to his. He was frozen in his spot, even as her lips brushed against his. She was _kissing_ him. His first kiss—no, not his first kiss. Some sorority girl who had called herself Glimmer had drunkenly made out with him at a frat party Finnick had dragged him to his second year, but it had been sloppy and unpleasant, and, because he had been drunk, he still didn't know what he was doing. He and Delly had practiced kissing once, too, in middle school, but they were both so grossed out by the fact that they had been kissing each other, they never did it again. This was his first real, sober kiss.

And he was terrified she would realize it, so he kept his mouth slack, letting her guide the movements. When her tongue licked his lip and slid into his mouth, he made an involuntary choking noise in the back of his throat. But she took it as a sign of encouragement, pressing her body against his chest as she touched her tongue to his. Should he reciprocate? He didn't know; he felt paralyzed. Screwing his eyes closed, he tried to focus on the feel of her tongue sliding against his, but his mind wouldn't stop racing.

After a moment, her lips stilled, and she pulled back. He opened his eyes to find hers, silver pools of confusion, mere inches from his. Oh, God, she could tell; she'd realized what a loser he was. "You don't seem to be enjoying this at all. Do you not want to kiss me?" she asked, her voice small.

His eyes widened. "Uh, no, I—no, that's not it! I just—I just..." He swallowed, his eyes shifting around in fear. What could he say?

Then understanding dawned on her face, and she pulled back farther. "Oh, my God...this isn't your first kiss, is it?"

"What? No! No! I've, uh...I've kissed...people...before."

She narrowed her eyes, searching his face. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

"Um..."

"Have you ever had sex?"

His mouth hung open, his face red. "Um..."

Her eyes widened incredulously, and she stepped back to stare at him. "Oh, my God. You're a virgin." He opened and closed his mouth, protesting noises sticking in his throat. "You're totally a virgin. I can't believe it. How are you a virgin?"

His eyes darted down the hallway, wondering if he should just make a run for it now. "I don't...I don't know. I just—I had other things to worry about. And I, and I—I just didn't have time for girlfriends, and I just...girls don't like me, anyway." He cringed; why did he say that last part? She was going to think he was absolutely pathetic. He really just wanted to hurl himself down the stairs right then.

She narrowed her eyes at him again, her hands resting on her hips. "Girls don't like you? I don't believe that. You're good-looking, and you're smart." Her gaze swept down his frame critically. "And you've got a good build, like, a really good build. No way girls don't like you."

He blushed, running his hands through his hair. "I'm, uh...I don't know, I'm just shy and awkward, so...look, I should probably go. I think I've embarrassed myself enough tonight, so..."

Her arm shot up, blocking his escape route. She stared at him oddly. "Well, I'm a girl, and I like you. So I think you're wrong about that." He gaped at her, words escaping him. She couldn't mean she liked him, as in _liked_ liked him. Could she? She regarded him thoughtfully. "So, you've really never had sex before. You're not one of those people who thinks oral and anal sex don't count, do you?"

"Huh? No, I, uh—"

"You haven't even played 'just the tip' with your dick?"

He wasn't even sure he knew what the hell she was talking about. "I don't even—no, um, I haven't done—_that_."

She fixed him with a look, and he began to squirm, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Suddenly, the corners of her mouth curled up into a smile. "So, somehow I've managed to find the most attractive third-year virgin on this campus. Did Christmas come early this year?" She laughed lightly, then she stretched up to press her lips against his firmly. But she pulled away, taking a step back. He just stared at her.

"I'm gonna have a lot of fun with you, Peeta Mellark," she declared, her eyes sparkling. "But I think I've scared you enough for one night. I'll talk to you later, okay?" Her finger tips skimmed his lips in a light touch, and then she slipped inside her apartment.

It took him a few minutes of staring blankly at the wall before he finally regained his composure enough to walk away from her apartment. What had he gotten himself into?


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Wow, thanks for the amazing response so far! So, what I'm gathering from all the reviews is that you're all a bunch of perverts and really just want to defile Peeta Mellark. I dig it._

* * *

Peeta's thoughts were consumed by Katniss; he tossed and turned while he tried to sleep that night after the incident at her apartment, mostly horrified by himself and the thought that she was probably laughing at him at that very moment, having realized how pathetic he was. And what had she meant when she said _"I'm going to have a lot of fun with you"_? Was she going to taunt him for being a virgin every time she saw him? She couldn't be that cruel, could she?

Fuck, he should have just had sex with that Glimmer girl when she'd asked him to that night at the frat party. She had shoved her hand down his pants while making out with him, but even drunk he knew it was something he did not want to do; he had freaked out and nearly threw her off of him in his haste to get out of there. If he'd just done it then, he wouldn't still be a clueless, bumbling virgin, and Katniss couldn't make fun of him for it.

Fuck.

He threw all of his attention into his classes the next day, trying to occupy his mind with his work instead of his enigmatic lab partner. He mostly failed.

Professor Paylor was describing the basic types of viral symmetry in his microbiology class that morning when Peeta felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Surprised, he discreetly pulled it out under his desk, expecting an offensive text from Finnick or even his brother Rye. But it was a text from a number he didn't recognize.

_When's your last class today?_

He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering who would be texting him that he didn't already have their number. Then her name stuck in his brain like a splinter. Katniss. His stomach twisting, he pulled his planner out of his bag and flipped to the scrap of paper with her number. It was the same. Why was she texting him? He glanced around the classroom before he quickly typed out a response.

_I'm done at 3._

Anxiously, he dropped his phone in his lap and waited, scribbling down notes as Professor Paylor droned on. When his phone buzzed again, he jumped slightly and hastily snatched it up.

_Ok. Meet me outside of Taylor at 3:15. See ya then ;)_

His stomach did another funny flip, and he frowned at his iPhone screen. Why did she want to meet him after class? And what was Taylor? The building didn't sound familiar to him, so he looked it up quickly on his phone, periodically glancing up at Professor Paylor and jotting in his notebook. When he found the answer, he was even more confused. Campus Health Services.

What did she want there?

That question raged in his brain for the rest of the day, and when his last class let out at 2:50 p.m., he nervously began his trek across campus to the Taylor Building. When he got there, he didn't see her around, so he checked his phone. It was only 3:06. Climbing the steps, he sat down at the top to wait. After a few minutes, he spotted her in the distance, her dark hair a rich chestnut in the sun. Katniss waved at him as she got closer, and he held up his hand in a halfhearted greeting. She bounded up the stairs, the muscles in her legs flexing beautifully, and she paused beside him, grabbing his hand to bring him to his feet.

"Hi," she chirped as she squinted in the harsh sunlight, oblivious to his hesitation. "You ready for this?"

"Uh, ready for what, exactly?" he asked, looking down at her hand. Her fingers were warm and soft around his. When he glanced back at her face, she was grinning.

"You and I are going to get tested," she said proudly.

"Tested for what?"

She arched an eyebrow. "For STDs, silly."

He gawked at her, dropping her hand. "What? Why do I—I haven't even—_what_?" he sputtered, and she looked like she was trying not to laugh.

"Peeta, I do believe you about being a virgin," she said, twirling her braid around her finger. "I mean, I can't imagine any guy your age would lie about that. But I still think we should be safe. You can show me your results, and I'll show you mine. I get tested periodically, anyway, and I am _always _safe. But this way you'll know for sure where I stand, and I'll know exactly where you stand."

He still didn't understand. "But..._why?_"

She smirked, stepping closer to him to run her hand through his hair, and she tenderly brushed a curl away from his ear. Her perfume tickled his senses, and his heart seized in his chest at the feel of her hand in his hair. "I told you, Peeta. You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together."

Oh. _Now_ he understood.

She wanted to have sex with him.

Laughing lightly, Katniss pressed on his chin to close his gaping mouth. "Don't get too excited yet. You're probably not going to like what they're about to do to your dick." Grabbing his hand again, she yanked him inside before he could protest.

And he hadn't—he hadn't liked it one bit. The nurse—who'd been a little too suspicious and judgmental for his taste when he'd informed her that he hadn't had _any_ kind of sex—had jammed a cotton swab into his urethra twice, for two different tests, she'd told him. He nearly bit his tongue off trying not to scream or cry. Just having his junk out to be ogled and fondled by a woman he didn't know was uncomfortable enough, and after she'd finished and left him to dress, he wanted to run out of the clinic and hop on the bus to take him back to his apartment so he could bury himself under his covers for the remainder of the day.

But Katniss was already in the waiting room, and she nearly burst out laughing at the look on his face. His ears burned, and he ducked his head, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else in the room—he hoped to God he didn't know any of them—and he darted out of the clinic, Katniss on his heels. She looped her arm through his, floating down the steps beside him. "I'm guessing that's the first time you've ever had a urethral swab done?" she teased, and he glowered at her. "Hey, don't think it was all fun and games for me in there either. Just remember, I have to get the equivalent of a urethral swab at least once a year for checkups. And I've gotta do it with my legs spread wide open and someone's face practically buried in my crotch. You get over the indignity of a simple STD test real fast, trust me."

Peeta sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I guess..." he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets, and after a minute of walking, Katniss pulled him to a stop, turning him to face her. She was smiling at him, and his expression softened. He still had a hard time looking her in the eye without feeling flustered. Especially now that he knew her intentions with him.

"What are your plans for tonight?" she asked, her fingers lightly gripping his wrist.

It was Friday, which meant he had to work at the library. He had a lot of scholarships that covered his tuition costs, and his parents helped pay for the rest, but he still liked to work, to earn some cash for extra spending money. So he worked three shifts a week at the library. It was mostly quiet and low-key work, and in his downtime he was able to study or do homework.

"I gotta go to work at 6, and I'll be there till 11," he said, and she nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, I gotta work at the restaurant tonight, but I should be out by midnight. Think you'll still be awake then?" she asked, and his brow creased.

"Uh, probably, yeah. Why?"

She smirked then, drawing his arm around her waist to rest his hand in the small dip above her ass. "Maybe I'll stop by then, if you're up for it." His eyes widened, and she shook her head, her smirk still playing on her lips. "Don't get any funny ideas, Mellark. We won't get those results back for a week. So we're going to take it real slow, okay?"

What could he do but nod?

She pressed her body against his, standing on her toes to kiss his jaw. "Don't worry. I'll make you forget all about what that mean old nurse did to you in there," she breathed in his ear, and he was sure he was going to die. He was simply going to combust right there on the spot. Katniss stepped away, raising her eyebrows. "Text me your address later, okay? And I'll shoot you a heads up once I'm out of work."

After she had walked away, he reluctantly trudged through campus to the bus stop. He wasn't sure how he was going to make it through his shift at the library with the prospect of a night of doing God only knew what with Katniss Everdeen looming over his head. It was going to be torture.

* * *

Peeta got back to his apartment around 11:30 that night, and he was relieved to find that his roommates were out. Finnick had sent him a text while he was at the library, informing him he was going to a party and to let him know if he wanted to come. Peeta wouldn't have regardless, but he definitely didn't want to go that night. Luckily, it looked like Thom and Thresh had also accompanied Finnick to that party. They probably wouldn't be back until 2 or 3.

Good. He wouldn't have to deal with them when Katniss came over.

If she came over. He still wasn't sure she'd stop by; he had his doubts about her interest in him. It was surreal. But he made sure to straighten up his room, anyway. He didn't have much to put away; he was a fairly neat person as it was. He checked that his bathroom was in order, and he inspected his reflection, mussing his hair with his hands. After he'd brushed his teeth, he swiped some deodorant under his arms and spritzed some cologne on his neck. He considered himself again for a moment and huffed in annoyance at himself. He was trying too hard. She was going to see right through it.

He plopped down on the couch in the living room and flipped on the TV, hoping to distract himself from thinking about her. It didn't work. He grew antsier by the minute, unable to stop himself from watching the clock, and by 12:09 a.m., he had convinced himself she wasn't going to come. He was trying to swallow his disappointment when his phone vibrated, and he yanked his phone out of his pocket so fast, he nearly threw it across the room.

_I just got out. You still want me to come by?_

_Dear God, yes_, his mind screamed. He couldn't believe how badly he wanted to see her.

_Yeah, sure. I'm up,_ he texted back, hoping for casual, and a minute later a new message from her popped up on his screen.

_In more ways than one I hope ;) I'll be there in about 20 minutes._

Holy shit. Just...holy shit. He had no idea how to handle himself when she flirted with him. So, as usual, he didn't respond—she was probably driving, anyway, and he shouldn't distract her behind the wheel.

Some cooking show was playing on the TV, but he wasn't really paying attention. Around 12:30 there came a knock on the front door, and he launched himself off the couch, rushing to the door. He paused for a moment, telling himself he didn't want to appear overly eager, so he counted to five, slowly, before opening the door.

Katniss was leaning against the door frame, dressed in a tight black shirt and black skinny jeans, which were tucked into a pair of black combat boots. She smiled at him, and he tried to smile back, but it felt like a grimace on his face.

"Hi," she greeted him.

"Hi. Uh, come in," he said, waving her inside, and she pushed off the door frame, ducking into the hallway.

"Thanks," she said as she walked into the living room. "Is anyone else here?"

"Um, no, my roommates are out." He shut the door and followed her into the living room. He thought they might hang out on the couch and watch TV, but she turned toward his room, heading in that direction.

"This your room?" she asked, but she was already walking through the doorway. It was the only room with a light on.

"Um, yeah, that's me," he mumbled, trailing her into his bedroom. This was the first time he'd ever had a girl in his room. Aside from Delly, but he didn't really count her. She was like his sister.

Katniss flopped down on his bed, and he tried to control his racing heart. Sighing, she set down a rolled-up apron beside her and began to unlace her boots. "I'm beat. How was your night?" she asked, slipping off her shoes.

He stood awkwardly near his desk, wondering if he should shut the door or not. He wasn't sure what to expect. "Uh, it was fine. Chill. Got some homework done for anatomy. How was, uh, how was your night?"

"Brutal. A bunch of drunk assholes, mostly. I nearly decked a guy for touching my ass," she groused, leaning back on her hands. "But the bartender, Haymitch, threw him out for me. And I made bank, at least." She pulled out a roll of cash from her apron, smiling.

He nodded. "Cool. That's cool. I mean, not about the guy. That sucks that he touched your ass...like that...I mean, no one should do that, um, unless you want them to." Blushing mildly, he braced himself against his desk and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

Tucking her money back into her apron, she smiled at him. "Exactly. And you're the only guy I want touching my ass right now." She chuckled at the flustered look on his face and beckoned to him. "Come here already. And shut your door."

He obliged, quietly closing his door, and inched toward his bed. She patted the spot next to her, and he sat down on his bed stiffly. Giggling, she pressed against his side and nuzzled his neck. "You're so nervous. It's cute," she murmured, kissing his ear, and he tensed when she nipped at his earlobe with her teeth. "Don't worry. I told you we were taking it slow. It'll just be some junior high-level necking. Over the clothes type stuff, nothing below the waist. I think we need to work on your kissing technique first."

He frowned, his cheeks reddening, but she kissed the corner of his mouth. "I'm not trying to insult you. No one's a whiz at it right off the bat. Trust me; you're going to enjoy the practice."

Trying to relax his body, he took a deep breath. "You smell like fajitas," he blurted, wiping his palms on his jeans. She laughed breathily against his neck.

"Sorry, a lot of people ordered them tonight." Her hand slid over his hand on his thigh.

"No, it's okay. Um, I like it," he muttered. Steak and peppers was a delicious aroma; it smelled even better on a pretty girl. Who was he to complain? "Uh, I also, I like whatever you normally wear, too."

She hummed in response. "Do you? I'll keep that in mind..." She squeezed his hand. "Lie down." He gave her an incredulous look, but she just looked at him expectantly. Licking his lips, he carefully, very carefully, lay down on his back and placed his head on a pillow. Katniss straddled his hips and crawled up his body until her face was aligned with his. He could scarcely breathe as he watched her, his gaze flitting between her face and her chest; the V-neckline of her shirt revealed the smooth, olive-skinned tops of her breasts. Her warm breath fanned over his face, and she shifted her body so she could rest her weight on top of his. He closed his eyes to relish the feel of her body against his, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest. It was almost too much to take.

"You can touch me if you want," she murmured, and his eyelids fluttered open.

"How?"

"Just put your hands on my waist or my hips," she said, and he lifted his hands, cautiously resting them on her hips. She smiled down at him, then she lowered her face to his to place a light kiss on his lips. Her gray eyes remained locked on his when she drew back slightly. His heart pounded in his chest, and he was sure she could feel it. Her pink tongue darted out to wet her lips, and his eyes were riveted to the now glistening rosy skin. She kissed him again, but this time she lingered on his bottom lip, her tongue gliding over it before she sucked it into her mouth. He inhaled sharply and closed his eyes as her teeth worried his lip. When she pulled back again, her tongue licked the underside of his top lip, sliding across his front teeth.

"When I kiss you, just do what I do, okay? Nothing you do will be wrong—just don't bite me. Yet, anyway." She grinned briefly before she pressed her mouth to his, her warm lips melding to his. After a moment, she pried his mouth open with her tongue, touching the tip to his. He hesitated, then opened his mouth a little wider, and she slid her tongue along his. He forced his mind to pay attention to the movements of her tongue instead of the way her breasts rubbed against his chest or the way her hips shifted on his abdomen. It didn't matter what he focused on, though; his dick was stiffening in his pants, regardless.

Katniss licked the roof of his mouth, then retracted her tongue, but her lips stayed pressed to his. He cracked his eyes open and saw she was watching him. She wanted him to repeat her actions, he realized.

Well, it couldn't be any worse than their first kiss, at least. Hesitantly, he touched his tongue to her bottom lip then sucked it into his mouth. She tasted like cherry Chapstick. Her eyes fluttered closed and, emboldened, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and stroked her tongue in an awkward imitation of what she'd just done. She moaned quietly, and he felt his heart leap into his throat. That sound, God, he wanted to hear more of it. He repeated the ministrations on her tongue more eagerly, and after a couple minutes, she broke away with a soft gasp.

"Yes, keep doing that, it's good," she breathed against his mouth, and her hand came up to cradle his face. Then she was kissing him again. He met her tongue earnestly, his hands tight on her hips. She shifted on top of him to angle her face so she could slant her mouth against his better, and she curled her fingers in his hair, tugging slightly. He groaned in the back of his throat, and he felt her smile against his mouth before their tongues twisted together.

He had no idea how long they lay in his bed, making out—minutes, hours; time had no meaning when her lips were on him. He only knew this had to be the most prolonged erection of his life; he was entirely aware of his throbbing cock, especially every time her ass bumped up against it. The first time it happened, he froze, sure she was going to flip out or laugh at him. But she just continued to attack his mouth as if she hadn't noticed—or just didn't care. So he relaxed back into their kiss.

At the moment, she had her face buried against his neck, sucking on the flesh under his jaw. His mouth hung open as he sucked in air, his hands dragging up and down her sides, over her back, lingering above her ass. He really wanted to touch her skin, but she had said over the clothes only. It was torture, but it was the most exquisite torture of his life. Katniss laved her tongue over the spot she had been sucking on, then she kissed a trail down to the nape of his neck where she scraped her teeth against his skin. An electrical pulse shot to his groin, and he gasped, his hips bucking against her ass slightly. She laughed into his neck.

"Did I find a sensitive spot?" she asked playfully, but she didn't wait for an answer before she latched onto the spot and sucked greedily. Peeta moaned, his hand cradling the back of her head to hold her in place. Shit, he was certain he was going to bust a nut in his pants just from this. That would be embarrassing.

He was almost, _almost_, relieved when she finally stopped, moving her lips back up to his, where her tongue swept into his mouth. Wanting to return the favor, he tilted his head to break the kiss and trailed his mouth down her chin to her neck. He mimicked her movements, alternating between sucking and licking her skin, from her pulse point under her jaw down to her collar bone. The gasping noises she made were music to his ears, and she squirmed on top of him. After a moment, he realized she was grinding her hips against his stomach, and his eyes flew open. Was she _humping _him? Holy fuck. He palmed her ass to push her pelvis harder against him, and she moaned loudly, arching against him.

But then she gasped, pushing on his chest to lift her neck from his mouth. She laughed breathlessly before she kissed him again, but she cut it short, pulling back slightly to look at him. Her face was flushed, her lips swollen and red, and her eyes were so dark, they were almost black. He wondered if his face looked the same.

"God, we have to stop now, or I'm gonna go much further than I told myself I would," she panted against his mouth. He just nodded dumbly. With one more peck on his lips, she pushed off of him and rolled to his side so she was tucked against him and the wall. He licked his tender lips and glanced down at his groin, groaning inwardly. Yep, he had a huge fucking boner. He tried to adjust it discreetly, but Katniss chuckled in his ear. "Sorry. But you've got me pretty worked up, too, so I guess we're even."

He laughed nervously, recalling how her hips moved against him just a moment before. Shit, that wasn't helping his erection.

With a heavy sigh, Katniss stretched languidly. He thought she was going to get up to leave, but she curled up against his side, propping her head in her hand to look at him. "I can tell you're a fast learner," she said with a mischievous smile. "But I should have figured. I thought your lips were kissable the moment I sat down next to you in lab," she mused, tracing his lips with her pointer finger, and he looked at her in surprise, amazed she had thought _anything_ about him that day.

"Uh, thanks, I think."

She just grinned, then she dropped her hand to his chest and lazily observed his room. Her eyes landed on a drawing on his wall opposite his bed. It was a drawing he'd done of Delly and her brother, Carl, on a trip to the beach the summer after they'd graduated high school. She squinted. "Did you draw that?" she asked, and he nodded shyly.

"Yeah."

She looked impressed. "Wow. That's incredible. You're really talented, aren't you?" He shrugged modestly, and she flashed him a smile. "So who's the girl?"

"Uh, that's Delly. A friend of mine."

She raised an eyebrow. "An old flame? Unrequited love?"

He made a face. "No. She's like my sister."

She seemed satisfied by that answer, continuing her casual observation of his room. He was about to ask her a question when he heard the front door open and loud voices resonate in the living room. His body stiffened. Fuck. His roommates were back. Katniss glanced at him curiously, and he grimaced. Maybe they would go straight to bed.

"YO, PEETA, YOU FUCKING PUSSY. I SEE YOU'RE AWAKE," Finnick bellowed from the other side of his door, and Peeta started to panic, remembering he hadn't locked it. Sure enough, his door slammed open, and Finnick charged inside. "Why the fuck didn't you —oh."

Peeta was sure the wide-eyed look on his roommate's face mirrored his own. No one spoke for a moment as they surveyed each other. Finnick rubbed his eyes and blinked at them. "Fuck, I must be drunker than I thought 'cuz I could swear that looks like a chick in your bed." He laughed, and Katniss hummed in amusement.

"I am indeed a chick in his bed. Hi, my name is Katniss." She waved harmlessly. Peeta was glad she'd spoken up because his mouth still hadn't caught up to his brain yet.

"Well, hol-y shit," Finnick whistled, rubbing his jaw. Then, because he was Finnick, he slipped into swagger mode, striking what he probably thought was a devastatingly sexy pose. "Hello, Katniss. I'm Finnick, Peeta's funnier and much more attractive roommate."

Peeta wanted to hurl a pillow at him, but Katniss flattened her palm on his chest, rubbing small circles. "Is that so? I guess the jury's still out on that."

Finnick's expression soured, and they could hear muffled laughter from the living room. Thom and Thresh. Peeta sighed to himself. "Well, please, don't let me interrupt whatever you two were doing," Finnick said, bowing dramatically. He backed out of the room, shutting the door on his way out.

Katniss shot Peeta a look, stifling a laugh. "Interesting roommate you got there."

"Ah, yeah," Peeta said, scratching his chin. "Finnick's generally a good guy, but I think he's been preprogrammed to hit on every single female he comes into contact with." At least, Peeta's erection was finally subsiding.

With a sigh, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. "I guess it's a good thing he showed up when he did. I should probably head home." She crawled over him and perched on the edge of the bed, slipping her feet into her boots. He sat up and swung his legs over the side, watching her awkwardly. After she'd laced her boots up, she threw him a look over her shoulder, and her eyebrows shot up. A giggle erupted from her mouth, and he looked at her in confusion. "Sorry, but, uh, I kinda left a couple marks." She reached up and grazed his neck with her fingers.

His eyes widened, and he rubbed his neck. "Seriously?" he asked, blushing lightly, and she nodded.

"Got a little eager, I guess. But everyone should experience a hickey once in their life." She patted his cheek. "At least people will know you're getting some."

He chuckled in embarrassment, scratching the back of his head. "Uh, yeah. Thanks...I guess."

Winking, she grabbed her apron and stood up, and he followed suit, crossing to the door. He cracked it open cautiously, poking his head out. Thankfully, his roommates were in their respective rooms. He motioned for her to follow him, leading her through the living room to the front door. He paused awkwardly, turning to face her. "Uh, well, thanks...for coming over and...everything."

She grinned, then she reached up and pulled his head down to hers, kissing him soundly. Her body rubbed against his, her pelvis shifting suggestively against his crotch, and he groaned. But she broke away and licked her lips. "That was just a little something to help fuel your fantasy for, ah, dealing with this," she said, and he jumped slightly when her hand brushed his growing erection. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

He nodded, bidding her goodnight and shutting the door behind her. He hadn't even made it two steps back to his bedroom when Finnick barreled out of his room. "You little shit," he accused, and Peeta pulled up short, holding his hands up. "You've been holding out on me. All this time I thought you were just balls deep in books and homework and, I dunno, gay porn or something, but you've been getting your dick wet with a fine piece of ass all along!"

Flushing slightly, Peeta ran his hands through his hair. "No! I mean, no, it's not like that."

"Don't tell me you two were just in there braiding each other's hair or some shit. She was practically lying on top of you!"

"No, that's not—she's my lab partner. We just kinda started hanging out. We haven't—I mean, I haven't done anything like that with her...yet." Fuck, he shouldn't have added the "yet." That was presumptuous on his part.

Finnick eyed him warily. "Still a virgin then? Damn. You need to lock that shit down soon, then. She is way too hot for you to not be hitting that."

Peeta rolled his eyes. Finnick was a great friend and usually a good guy, but he was pretty obnoxious when it came to women. "Good night, Finn," he said evenly, marching to his bedroom.

"I'm just saying—if you're not gonna hit that, I can't be held responsible for any moves I make on her in the future," his roommate called after him before he shut the door.

And he knew his friend was serious. He just hoped Katniss wouldn't be interested, though he had a troubling suspicion she might be. All women liked Finnick; he was attractive and charming, and when held up against him, Peeta didn't stand a chance. Sighing, he collapsed on top of his bed and winced when he crushed his dick against the mattress.

Right. He needed to take care of that first.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** You guys are fantastic. Thank you, really. This is probably where it really starts to pick up, the, uh, "education" part, I mean. Poor Peeta, still fumbling around like the inexperienced puppy that he is._

* * *

When Peeta awoke the next morning, he stumbled out into the living room to fix a quick breakfast for himself. Thresh was already awake, stretched out on the couch watching TV. Without fail, Thresh was up by 8 every morning, no matter the day, even after a night out partying. Peeta didn't get it. Thresh never had hangovers, apparently. Peeta nodded to his friend in greeting, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and Thresh waved the controller at him. Then he smirked.

"Congratulations, bro."

Peeta groaned, shuffling into the kitchen. "Not you, too, man." He grabbed a jar of peanut butter from the pantry and set it on the counter.

"That's all I'll say, I swear," Thresh promised with a quiet laugh, flipping channels. Peeta unpeeled a banana and sliced it in half, then in quarters, smearing peanut butter between the pieces to create two sandwiches. "You gotta at least tell me how you met her, though."

Peeta bit into his banana as he walked into the living room. "I met her in my anatomy lab," he mumbled around a mouthful.

"So she's smart?" Thresh asked, his eyes trained on some exercise infomercial, and Peeta nodded, taking a couple more bites of his banana. "That's cool, then."

Peeta much preferred Thresh's outlook on women and dating to Finnick's. Scarfing down the rest of his breakfast, he waited until he had swallowed the last bite before he spoke up, "You wanna go for a run?"

"Yeah, give me 15 minutes," Thresh said, sitting up and switching off the TV. When he disappeared into his bedroom, Peeta crossed back into the kitchen to gulp down a glass of water. Then he went into his room to change clothes and strap his iPod onto his arm. He was lacing up his sneakers when Thresh reemerged in his workout gear, and, hooking his earbuds into his ears, Peeta followed him out the door.

They ran to campus, over the rolling hills of South Campus and around the football stadium. It was a tough workout but good. Peeta enjoyed running with Thresh because he didn't try to engage him in conversation; his roommate just ran in silence while Peeta listened to his music. Thresh was on the track team, so he was a much better runner than Peeta was, who only ran for fun and to clear his head sometimes. But he was a good pace buddy; he forced Peeta to keep up.

They got back to their apartment about an hour later. Thom was on his way out to work, and Finnick still wasn't up yet. Peeta stripped out of his sweaty clothes and hopped in the shower. After he had washed up, he dried off with a towel, walking back into his room to check his phone.

To his surprise, he had a couple texts from Katniss.

_You know, you're gonna give me a complex. I always have to text you.:(  
That's my attempt at a pouty face, but it mostly just looks angry._

His heart fluttered, and he tightened the towel around his waist as he reread her words. Was she mad at him? He couldn't tell.

_Sorry, I don't wanna pester you, _he texted back, wondering if he had already managed to fuck things up with her. He didn't get a response right away, so he hung his towel back up in the bathroom and slipped on a pair of sweatpants, sitting down at his computer to check his email. Katniss wasn't on Gmail, so he signed out and checked the news and a couple other websites, feeling antsy. When his phone vibrated, he snatched it up.

_It's okay. That was my hint to let you know you could pester me any time you want. ;)_

He smiled to himself, tapping his finger on his desk as he formulated a response. _What are you up to?_

She replied much quicker this time. _About to head to the restaurant. I have to work a double today. You?_

_Just got back from a run. I gotta work later today too._

While he waited for a response, he changed into a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt. He was just thinking that he probably should have asked her a follow-up question when his phone buzzed on his desk. He grabbed it to read her message.

_I_ _think I'll be done around 10 tonight. Think you'd like to come over to my place after?  
I can't do all the work here :P_

His eyes bulged as he stared at his screen. Go to her place? The thought made his palms itch. Ruffling his hair, he typed out a response, but he was so nervous, he had to delete it and start over a couple times.

_Sure._

He almost left it at that but thought better of it, struggling to come up with a more elaborate reply. _That would be cool. _Nope, that was still lame. But he had already sent it. He sighed, waiting for her response.

_Ok, I'll send you a text later with my address in case you don't remember where I live.  
Hope you have a good day! :)_

His ears burned, and he was trying not to grin like a fool while he typed out his message. _Thanks, I hope you have a good day too._ And, before he lost his nerve, he added, _See you tonight._

When he emerged from his room, Finnick was slumped over the dining table, eating a cold slice of pizza.

"Hey," Peeta said, and Finnick winced, grabbing his head.

"Dude, don't talk so loud," he grumbled. Peeta smiled ruefully.

"Sorry," he apologized, walking into the kitchen to fill up a glass of water. "What are your plans for the day?"

Finnick groaned. "I gotta work at the bookstore at noon. I'm trying to eat this pizza without puking it up though, first."

Peeta laughed, wiping his mouth after he took a sip of water. "I gotta be on campus at noon, too. You taking the bus there?"

"No, fuck no. I'm gonna drive."

"Mind if I catch a ride with you then?" Finnick shook his head. "Cool." Peeta pulled out a chair and sat down next to his roommate. Finnick took another cautious bite and, while chewing slowly, he narrowed his eyes at him.

"God, look at your neck, you fucking heathen," he said with mock disgust, and Peeta flushed, rubbing his neck self-consciously. Finnick chuckled briefly before he dissolved into a gagging cough, dropping his pizza to his plate.

"Is it really that bad?" Peeta asked, touching the hickey Katniss had left last night. He noticed it after his shower, but he wasn't sure what to do about it. Was it that big of a deal? He didn't want to be at the library with people ogling his neck all day.

Finnick laughed again. "No. I mean, I can see it, but I'm just giving you shit. It's funny. I feel like a proud father, like my son is finally getting laid and shit. You done good, boy."

Peeta rolled his eyes, gulping down some more water. "Fuck off," he muttered after he'd swallowed.

Finnick sighed, pushing away from the table and scooping up the plate with the unfinished pizza. "I'm gonna go shower and throw up—not necessarily in that order," he announced, depositing the plate in the kitchen and breezing through the living room back to his room. Crashing on the couch, Peeta decided to watch some TV while he waited.

* * *

Peeta couldn't bring himself to get out of his car. He had been sitting in the parking lot outside Katniss' apartment complex for ten minutes, but for some reason he couldn't work up the courage to open his car door. What was wrong with him? He was thinking too much. She had invited him over; she obviously wanted him to be there. It was just his first time going over to a girl's place, and it was made doubly nerve-racking by the thought of what they were going to be _doing_ at her place.

_It's just kissing_, he told himself. _Do it. Just do it._

With a deep breath, he opened his door and climbed out of his car. Once he was outside her door, he hesitated only momentarily before forcing himself to knock, then he shoved his hands into his pockets, afraid she was going to notice they were trembling. After a moment, the door swung open, and he was greeted by a blonde girl.

He blinked. Did he have the wrong apartment? "Uhh..."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Hi? Oh! Are you here for Katniss?" He nodded, and she craned her neck to the side, "Kat, your friend is here!" The girl waved him in and left the door open, walking away. Hesitantly, he stepped inside, his eyes darting around his surroundings, and he froze in the doorway when he saw the group of people sitting around the living room. The blonde girl joined them, plopping down on a couch next to a brunette with short, spiky hair. There was another girl with longer brown hair and two guys lounging on the floor in a circle. A couple of them gave him cursory glances, but they were all chatting with each other and drinking beer.

Peeta briefly entertained the idea of leaving, but then Katniss' head popped out from around a doorway, and her face lit up at the sight of him. "Hey, you made it," she said, crossing to him, and he had to remind himself how to breath. Her hair was out of its usual braid and damp, as if she had recently taken a shower. She wore a baggy gray T-shirt and the shortest flannel pajama shorts he had ever seen. And it didn't look like she was wearing a bra, if the way her nipples strained against her shirt was any indication.

Damn, damn, damn.

Katniss circled around him to shut the door and gestured to the people in the living room, leading him in their direction. "Hey, guys, this is my friend, Peeta," she started, and he waved nervously. They all responded with a chorus of hellos and "What's up?" Katniss pointed at the blonde who had answered the door. "Peeta, this is my roommate, Madge." Madge tipped her beer in greeting. "That's Johanna next to her," she continued, motioning to the short-haired brunette. "And that's Annie, Marvel and Blight."

"Um, hello," Peeta said uneasily, hoping his face looked more pleasant than his voice sounded. Katniss pulled him toward the kitchen.

"Would you like a beer?" she asked, and he scratched his head.

"Sure."

She opened the fridge and bent over to fish a beer out. Her shorts inched up even higher over the curve of her ass, and he averted his gaze. When she stood back up, she handed him the beer. "All we have is Bud Light because Blight hates us," she said, throwing her voice in the direction of the living room.

"Well, when you're finally legal, you can start buying your own beer, Everdeen, and stop using me," Blight yelled back at her. Rolling her eyes, Katniss grabbed another beer for herself and shut the fridge. She led him toward her room, pausing at the doorway.

"You kids keep it down out here, you hear?" she said with mock sternness.

"As long as you two do the same," Johanna shot back with a wolfish grin, eliciting laughter from the others. Peeta was sure his face was on fire. Katniss flipped them off and pushed him into her room, shutting the door behind her with her foot.

"Sorry, I didn't want to overwhelm you with them," she apologized, walking over to her bed where she plunked herself down, folding her legs. "They can be a bit—_much_—with new people." She popped the tab on her can and took a swig.

Peeta surveyed her room, shifting from foot to foot. "Did you want to hang out with them? I can leave if I'm intruding," he said quickly, but she shook her head.

"No, I wanted to hang out with you tonight. Madge just invited a few friends over. I'm too beat to do a lot of socializing anyway." She smiled at him. "Come sit down."

He did so, sliding his flip-flops off at the foot of her bed before he sat down beside her. He glanced around her room as he opened his beer and took a sip. She had a lot of photos up—her with friends, people he guessed to be her parents, and a little blonde girl who looked vaguely similar to Katniss—_Prim_, he thought—and a few with a dark-haired guy. His hair and skin tone matched hers perfectly, and they were awfully chummy in those photos. A brother? She didn't mention having one. Cousin maybe?

"Did you have a good day?" she asked softly, startling him from his thoughts. He looked at her, and she raised her eyebrows expectantly from behind her beer can as she drank.

"Um, yeah," he said, taking a sip of his own beer. "Worked at the library, did some homework. Well, I guess it was kind of boring." He frowned, but she smiled. "How was, um, how was work? Any more drunk assholes?"

"No more than usual," she said with a laugh. "No one tried to molest me, at least. It was just a long day. I'm pretty exhausted, and I can't wait to sleep in tomorrow."

His brow creased in concern. "Are you sure you don't want me to go? I understand if you're tired..."

She shook her head again. "No, I want you to stay. If you ask to leave again, though, I'm going to start thinking _you_ don't wanna be here." She gave him a pointed look, a mirthful smirk playing on her lips, and his eyes widened.

"No, I do. I just, um, just wanna make sure I'm not bothering you," he said uncertainly, taking a generous gulp of his beer. He was a little uncomfortable, given the fact that there was a roomful of strangers on the other side of her door probably speculating about what they were doing. He could hear the occasional bout of uproarious laughter and chattering from the living room, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were talking about him and Katniss. But the fear and the discomfort weren't enough to outweigh his desire to see her. And kiss her. He really wanted to kiss her again.

"Believe me, if you're bothering me, you'll know it," she asserted then she swigged her beer and set the can down on her nightstand. "So, you mentioned earlier that you went for a run? Do you run a lot?"

He rubbed his palm on his shorts; his hand was wet from the condensation on the can. "Uh, some. My roommate Thresh is on the track team, so I run with him."

She nodded. "That's cool. Maybe we could run together sometime?"

He tried to quell his shock with a small smile. "Okay, sure, um, if you want."

"Yeah, I gotta keep this trim figure somehow," she joked lightly. "I used to play intramural soccer here, but I just don't think I have time with my workload this year."

No wonder she was so toned. His eyes lingered on her crossed legs, and he felt his body stirring at the way the adductor muscles of her inner thighs flexed with her casual movements. "Ah, that's cool," he said, taking a sip of his beer to distract himself. "I, uh, coached youth soccer at the parks and rec department where I lived my senior year in high school."

"Oh?" She looked pleasantly surprised, and he nodded. "That's really neat. What made you want to do that?"

He shrugged. "I played a little growing up, but I'm just—not a competitive person. Sports-wise, anyway. But I like kids. On the whole, I find them nicer than grownups," he said, laughing awkwardly, and she grinned. "There wasn't anyone to coach them one year, and they were going to have to cancel the season, so I figured, why not?"

She was still grinning, and she unfolded her legs to stretch them out on her bed, leaning back on her hands. "You intrigue me a little more every day, Peeta," she said, nudging his leg with her foot. He ducked his head in embarrassment, not sure what to say. "So...what do you want to do?"

His eyebrows shot up, and he flicked the tab on his can nervously. "Uh, what do you want to do?"

"I'm asking you." He could hear the teasing in her voice, and he knew she knew what he wanted. But he was still reticent to voice it.

"I don't...know..."

Her toes pressed against his thigh. "Do you want to kiss me, Peeta?" He licked his lips and nodded. Already his heart was starting to race. "So, say it."

"I..." He swallowed, his beer can crackling in his tightening fist. With great effort, he dragged his gaze from her foot, up her legs, over the swells of her breasts under her loose shirt, and finally to her face. "I really...I'd really like to kiss you. Katniss."

She sat forward, and his heart leapt into his throat. But she simply plucked the beer can from his hand and leaned across her bed to set it on the nightstand next to hers. She propped herself up on her elbow on her side, arching an eyebrow in his direction. He supposed that meant he should lie down beside her. Clearing his throat, he lowered himself to the mattress and shifted so he was on his side facing her. Up close, he could smell the shampoo she had used, something citrusy. She smiled wider at him, resting her head on her pillow; he followed suit, and when his nose bumped hers, he jerked his head back slightly, fighting the urge to apologize.

"Well?" she teased, and he realized she was waiting for him to make the first move. Licking his lips again, he zeroed in on her mouth; he could see a white sliver of teeth as she tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, but she released it when he moved his face closer to hers, her eyes fluttering shut as his lips grazed hers. He wavered, tentatively cradling the side of her face, and then he attempted to mimic the kisses from yesterday. Slanting his mouth over hers, he touched his tongue to her lips; she didn't even hesitate, opening her mouth to him eagerly, her warm tongue welcoming his. She tasted like beer.

Katniss' hands rested against his chest, her fingers curling around the neckline of his shirt, and she pressed her body to his so they were touching head to toe. She was a more aggressive kisser than he was, but he was happy to let her take the lead. She made a tiny noise in the back of her throat, licking her way into his mouth. His hand shakily trailed down her neck, coming to rest on her shoulder to pull her closer. Katniss retracted her tongue, grabbing his lip with her teeth to tug slightly, and he felt a responding twitch in his cock. Involuntarily, his hips pushed against hers, and he would have been ashamed if it weren't for the small moan she made. With a renewed urgency, Peeta captured her lips again, but in his haste he knocked his teeth against hers. Hissing, he jerked his head back as his face flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry," he gasped, but she just laughed, running the tip of her tongue over her teeth.

"It's okay. It happens," she murmured, pulling his face back to hers for a lusty kiss. She hooked her leg over his and promptly pushed him onto his back, never breaking the kiss as she crawled on top of him. He thought he much preferred this angle. Her tongue coaxed his back into her mouth, and she sucked on it greedily, her hands framing his face. He groaned, gripping her hips tightly; he was hard again, and every stroke of her tongue made his cock throb more.

She pulled her mouth away after a moment to attack his neck, her tongue gently teasing the spot she had marked the night before. Pressing a kiss to it, she dragged her lips to the other side of his neck where she nudged the collar of his shirt out of the way to latch onto his shoulder muscle—_the trapezius_, he thought unexpectedly, wanting to laugh at himself for being able to conjure the anatomically correct name at the moment. But the laughter died in his chest when her teeth dug into his flesh, her tongue swirling over the skin. He wasn't even aware of his pelvis thrusting up against her ass until she moaned quietly, lifting her head to look at him.

Her breath was hot against face. "Touch me," she panted, and he stared up into her lidded gray eyes.

"I am," he whispered hoarsely, grasping her hips, but she grabbed his right hand and placed it on her breast.

"Here," she said. His eyes widened, his fingers squeezing reflexively around the fleshy mound. Katniss moaned, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He was torn between watching her face and watching his hand on her breast—his hand won out, though; he had never touched a girl's breasts before. Hers was soft and warm, but her nipple was hard against his palm, even through her shirt. Her hand flexed over his, moving his palm in small circles. He was entranced—by the feel, the sight of her small breast filling his hand—and his eyes glazed over with lust as she arched her chest into his hand. Her hips began to shift against his, like they had the night before, and when his thumb caught on her nipple, she gasped.

Encouraged by her response, he decided to focus his efforts there, brushing his thumb back and forth over her pebbled nipple. Katniss whimpered, drawing his attention to her face, which was flushed and rosy and so, so lovely. He was completely awed. Her hips rocked erratically, and every time she bumped against his cock, he bucked against her.

She moved abruptly then, sitting down on him and drawing her knees up. Her legs were spread to him, and he fixated on the narrow strip of cloth that barely covered the juncture of her thighs. His heart stopped when her hand dropped between her legs, her fingers nudging aside the fabric to slip underneath. He caught a flash of her dark, slick folds as she pushed her two middle fingers inside. Holy _shit_. She moaned, pulling her fingers out, and she drew them up to her clitoris, rubbing quick, purposeful circles.

He couldn't breath; he couldn't do anything but watch the movements of her hand with rapt, barely registering the whimpers from above him. "Peeta," she groaned, nudging the hand on her breast. "My breast..."

He startled, squeezing her breast forcefully, and she gasped, her head dipping back as her hips rocked steadily against the her fingers. His gaze was riveted to the apex of her thighs, his cock straining painfully against his pants, but he didn't even care. This moment, his whole world, was between her legs right then, and he wanted to memorize every twitch, every stroke of her hand.

"Peeta, I'm gonna come," she whimpered, her fingers moving faster, and when he caught her nipple between his thumb and his forefinger, her hips jerked as she strained upward with a strangled cry. His eyes snapped up to her face to watch her as she came, mesmerized by the ecstasy that caressed her sharp features. Her lips were parted as she panted raggedly, her chest rising and falling under his hand. When she finally looked down at him, his face was slack with astonishment. With a satisfied smile, she shifted on top of him to lean down, capturing his lips in a slow kiss.

"Did you like that?" she murmured against his mouth, and he just nodded stupidly, dropping his hand. He wasn't sure he could speak even if he tried. "Good. I hope you were paying close attention because you're gonna have to repeat it someday soon." Then she lifted her hips so she was kneeling over him, reaching her hand down to tug open the button on his shorts. His eyes bulged, and a shocked gasp caught in his throat when she touched his erection through his boxer briefs. "Is this okay? Tell me if you want me to stop."

"No! I mean...yes, yes, it's okay," he breathed, his hands flexing and unflexing around her smooth calves. "Don't...you don't have to stop."

She grinned down at him, her hand moving up and down the length of his cock over his boxer briefs, and he squeezed his eyes shut, choking on a moan. "Just over the clothes this time," she whispered, her lips fluttering kisses over his chin and his jaw. He whimpered something incoherent, but she kissed him then, her tongue sliding wetly against his. As she rubbed him through his underwear, he found it impossible to focus on anything other than her hand. His mouth hung open to hers, and she took the opportunity to thrust her tongue deep into his mouth, licking over his teeth and the crevices along the roof of his mouth. Her hand moved faster, and his breathing quickened in response, his chest seizing rapidly; he could feel the familiar tingling in his balls, and his cock tensed in anticipation.

He knew he was going to come any second. Should he warn her? He wasn't sure, but he knew he couldn't hold it back any longer. Her mouth was still sealed around his, so he whimpered in the back of his throat, his fingers digging into her calves. Katniss broke away then as if she sensed it, and her small hand tightened around his cock. "Come for me, Peeta," she purred.

And he lost it. Pleasure surged through him a second later, from his balls to the tip of his cock, and his hips jerked against her hand as he groaned quietly, screwing his eyes shut to ride out his orgasm. Her hand stilled, his cock twitching under her fingers as he spurted semen into the soft fabric of his underwear. After a moment, once he had his breathing under control, he opened his eyes to find her gray eyes watching him intently. If his face wasn't already flushed, he was sure he would have blushed under her gaze.

She smiled lightly, her hand coming up to trace his brow. "Good?" she asked.

"Yeah," he croaked out, and her smile widened. "I, uh...thanks?"

She just laughed, kissing his lips tenderly. "Anytime, partner," she murmured, drawing him into a languid kiss. When she pulled back, she studied him. "I hope I didn't chafe you too bad." He shook his head adamantly; like he was going to complain, even if she had.

"No, it was fine." He cringed; shit, that wasn't exactly high praise. "I mean, not fine. Uh, good. It was good. Really, really good."

She grinned at him. "I can't wait to hear your descriptors when I _actually_ touch you." How was he supposed to respond to that? He had no words, nothing. "So, you probably wanna clean up, huh?" she asked. Still flabbergasted and speechless, he just nodded, and she rolled off of him. "There's a washcloth you can use in the bathroom," she told him as he pushed off her bed, grabbing his shorts to make sure they didn't fall down his hips as he crossed to her bathroom.

Shutting the door behind him, he flipped the light on and pulled the washcloth from the towel rack to wet it in the sink. He glanced at his reflection while he cleaned what he could off his cock and his boxers. His hair was disheveled, his eyes were bright, and there were light red marks dotting his neck.

A knock on the door startled him, and he tucked himself back into his shorts before he cracked it open. Katniss poked her head inside, holding up a pair of boxers. "Here, in case you want to change. They're clean." When he looked at her in confusion, she smiled. "I sleep in boxers sometimes. Don't worry; they're not some guy's leftover underwear."

"Er, thanks," he muttered as he took them from her, and she laughed as she shut the door. He changed into the clean pair of boxers, suddenly wondering just how many guys she'd been with. She seemed to know what she was doing, like she'd had a lot of experience. He wasn't sure if the idea bothered him. Did it matter if she'd been with a lot of people before him?

No, he guessed it didn't. He was mostly amazed she had any interest in someone like him. How she hadn't just laughed in his face by this point was a mystery to him. When he left the bathroom, his boxer briefs balled in his hand, he noticed she had already switched off the light and crawled back into bed. Was he supposed to leave now? He faltered in the bathroom doorway, but she patted the spot next to her. "Come lie down," she suggested, and he shuffled to the bed, feeling inexplicably shy after everything. Katniss scooted farther across the bed to give him room as he slid in beside her, setting his boxer briefs on the floor. "You're gonna stay the night, right?"

Was he? "Uh, if you want me to," he said, and he could see her smile in the dark.

"Well, I'm not going to kick you out after _that_." She yawned then, covering her mouth. "Sorry, feeling pretty tired now." His own eyes were heavy, despite his racing thoughts. She tugged on his arm, rolling him onto his side so she could face him. She snuggled against him, but she pulled his face down to hers, kissing him deeply, and his arm snaked around her waist to hold her closer. "Take off your shorts," she said after she'd pulled back, and his eyebrows shot up, making her laugh. "So you can sleep, Peeta."

"Oh." Awkwardly, he shifted under the covers, sliding his shorts off his legs to drop them on the floor with his boxer briefss. She wrapped herself around his side, resting her head on his chest. He stared up at the ceiling, relishing the warmth of her body. The euphoria of his orgasm still lingered.

"See you in the morning," she whispered sleepily, and he murmured a goodnight. It didn't take long before her breathing evened out, and he was sure she had fallen asleep. It took him much longer to do the same.

* * *

Something was tickling his nose.

Peeta scrunched his face, determined to ignore it; he was so warm and comfortable. But it became too much after a moment; he swatted irritably at his nose, and soft laughter resounded in his ear. Confused, he blinked his eyes open with great difficulty and was greeted by a sleepy pair of gray eyes. He pulled his head back slightly until her entire face filled his vision. Katniss smiled at him, waving a lock of her hair at him. That must have been what she was using to tickle him.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," she teased, her voice hoarse from sleep.

"Uh, good morning," he said timidly, rubbing a hand over his face. It was strange waking up next to a girl. He'd half expected to wake up and realize last night had been nothing but an extremely vivid and embarrassingly erotic wet dream.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked, and he nodded. Once he'd managed to fall asleep, anyway. "Good. You make a pretty nice pillow. I'm so glad you don't snore, by the way. I'd really have to reconsider this whole thing if you were a snorer."

"Oh." He was already tongue-tied around her even when his brain was functioning at 100 percent—how the hell was he supposed to converse with her when he was half-asleep? "Well...I'm glad, too."

She raised an eyebrow. "Glad you're not a snorer, or glad _I'm_ not a snorer?"

"Yes."

She laughed, and he smiled at her. Well, at least he made her laugh. She sat up, stretching her arms over her head, and he couldn't help but admire the way her T-shirt draped over her body, especially her breasts.

Shit, he didn't need to be thinking about her breasts this early in the morning. He sat up, ruffling his hair. "Uh, what time is it?" he asked, glancing around the room for a clock. She leaned over him; he didn't think it was unintentional the way she brushed against him, especially with the smirk she flashed him. Picking her phone up, she glanced at it.

"It is 8:18," she said, setting it back down, and then she crawled over him to get off the bed. "I'll be right back," she threw over her shoulder, disappearing into the bathroom. Peeta pushed the covers off and stood up, grabbing his shorts from the floor. Pulling them up, he tucked his semi-erect dick into his shorts and fastened them. His boxer briefs were still on the floor, and he grimaced at the sight. How was he supposed to take them out of her apartment? He really didn't know the protocol for these kinds of things.

He could hear the sink running in the bathroom and what sounded like her brushing her teeth. Stifling a sigh, he snatched his boxer briefs up and did his best to ball them up tightly, stuffing them into his pocket. He stood around awkwardly, and a moment later Katniss reemerged from the bathroom. She smiled when she saw him. "Leaving so soon?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I, uh...should I? I'm not—really sure..." She saved him the embarrassment of having to finish his thought, waving her hand.

"I don't have anywhere to be just yet."

Well, he guessed he wasn't leaving just yet, then. "Do you mind—if I use the bathroom?" he asked, and she shook her head, giving him wide berth to pass around her into the bathroom. After he'd urinated and washed his hands, he left the bathroom. Katniss was leaning against her desk, waiting for him. She had braided her hair again, but she was still in her pajamas.

"Would you like something to eat?" she asked, pushing off the desk to open her bedroom door.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he replied, but she motioned for him to be quiet as she led him through the living room to the kitchen. He understood why when his eyes landed on the sleeping bodies sprawled over the couches and the floor. Once in the kitchen, Katniss scanned the contents of the fridge, a small frown on her face.

"Well...we're not exactly IHOP in here, so..." She gave him a look. "We have eggs and...maybe we have cereal in the pantry?" she offered sheepishly, and he smiled. It was nice to see her flustered for once. "But it doesn't look like we have milk..."

"Do you have bread?" he asked quietly, and she nodded. "Syrup maybe?" She opened the pantry and surveyed the shelves, then she plucked a bottle of syrup out of the pantry, presenting it to him. "Okay. Well, do you like French toast? I can make some. If you'd like..."

Her eyes lit up. "Really? Are you a good cook, too?" She grabbed the bread from the pantry and moved back to the fridge, pulling the eggs out.

He shrugged. "My parents own a bakery, so, uh...I kinda grew up learning this stuff, I guess." She sat the ingredients down on the counter and located a bowl for him.

"Well, by all means, have at it," she said, waving her hand at the stove. "I'll just supervise."

Peeta worked quietly, trying his best to beat the eggs as noiselessly as possible; he was no stranger to having to silently make breakfast in his kitchen while his roommates' drunk friends slept just feet away. Katniss watched him raptly, finding him the appropriate cookware when needed. She dug around in the cabinet over the stove at one point, stretching up on her toes, and he faltered in his preparations, his eyes lingering on the swell of her ass left exposed by her shorts. He startled when she shoved a bottle of cinnamon sugar in his face, narrowing her eyes at him knowingly, and he smiled contritely, taking the bottle from her and sprinkling some into the egg mixture.

"Do you want me to make extras? For your friends?" he asked as he soaked the bread. It wasn't going to be the best French toast ever, not with the kind of store-bought bread she had, but it would suffice.

Katniss made a face. "Nah, fuck 'em. I'm not sharing," she whispered, and he chuckled. He worked in silence after that point, conscious of her stare the entire time. Once he had finished, they ate standing up, leaning against the counter. "This is really good," she gushed around a mouthful, and he flushed lightly in gratitude as he ate. She all but inhaled her French toast, practically licking the syrup from the plate, and when he had finished, she put their dirty dishes in the dish washer.

"Thank you for making breakfast," she said, bumping his hip with hers.

"Oh, it was, uh, I don't mind," he said, gripping the counter. "I like cooking and, well, I just wanted to..." he trailed off, realizing his train of thought probably wasn't appropriate to voice out loud. _Thank you for jacking me off last night?_ "Well, I don't mind doing it," he finished lamely, rubbing his neck in embarrassment.

She smiled at him, and he was surprised when she snaked her arms around his waist, drawing him flush against her body. "So what you're telling me is, you're handsome, ridiculously talented, and you can cook," she mused as she considered him thoughtfully. "Jeez, and what can I do? What do I have to offer?" She pretended to mull it over, and he frowned, ready to protest, but she cut him off, "Oh, right. Sex."

His mouth parted in astonishment, but she pulled his face to hers to meet him in an open-mouthed kiss, her tongue dancing along his. It took a moment for his brain to catch up before he finally responded, holding her waist as he kissed her—at first hesitantly and then more boldly, coming alive at the touch of her tongue. Her lips were slightly sticky from the syrup, and her breasts pressed firmly against his chest; he couldn't stifle his moan at the feel of her pebbled nipples pressing through both their shirts.

"Ahem."

Startled, Peeta jerked his head back, but Katniss tightened her arms around him so he couldn't step away. Johanna stood in the entrance to the kitchen, a bemused smirk on her sleep-creased face. "Isn't this why you have a bedroom, Kat?"

Loosening her hold on his waist, Katniss twisted around slightly to snub her nose at her friend. "You're such a cockblocker, Jo," she grumbled, and Peeta blushed at her words, trying to look anywhere but at Johanna.

"I'm pretty sure I am the exact opposite of a cockblocker," Johanna shot back, stepping into the kitchen. She sniffed the air and glanced at the ingredients on the counter. "What is that? Did somebody make French toast?"

"Peeta did," Katniss said, discreetly squeezing his ass. He jumped, his entire face flaming. Johanna pouted and fixed him with a glare.

"And you didn't make any for the rest of us?"

His eyes widened. "I'm sorry, uh, I didn't—"

Katniss interrupted him. "He's my guest; I'm not gonna make him cook breakfast for everyone. Get your own personal chef, Jo," she sniped playfully, and Johanna snorted.

"Gladly. Just tell me where you found this one, and I'll go scope out the field."

Peeta was pretty sure his face was on fire. "I should, uh, I should probably go..." he murmured to Katniss, and she sighed, releasing her hold on him.

"Okay. I've got shit to do today, anyway," she walked him to the door. As he passed Johanna, she grinned voraciously at him.

"Nice meetin' ya, Peter."

"Uh, it's Peeta, actually. Um, nice meeting you, too," he mumbled, and Katniss waved him outside, stepping out with him. She shut the door behind her and smiled at him apologetically.

"Sorry if she scared you off."

She had, actually. "It's fine, I just...was gonna see if I could get back home before Finnick wakes up. I think I've had my fair share of teasing this morning," he joked uneasily, and she nodded, smiling in understanding. They were quiet for a moment, staring at each other, and he wondered if it would be out of the question to kiss her goodbye.

She cocked her head, eyeing him. "You wanna kiss me, don't you?" He chuckled and nodded bashfully. "You can kiss me, Peeta." He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers chastely, but when she anchored his face to hers with her hands, he deepened the kiss, caressing her tongue with his. She pulled back slightly after a couple minutes to smile at him. "You're getting really good at this."

It was a good thing his face was already flushed. "Well, I...you're a good teacher," he said shyly, immensely glad they were the only ones out there. She nipped at his lips then pushed on his chest.

"I'll see you later," she said, and he nodded, turning around to walk away. He halted when she called out to him, "Oh, and you can keep the boxers." And she grinned devilishly at him, laughing loudly when he ducked his head, his ears burning. Fuck, how embarrassing.

* * *

_I really appreciate your reviews and any questions you might have, so hit me up on **tumblr** at **atetheredmind** if you'd like!_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** I probably don't need an author's note right here, but regardless, thank you for the reviews and the kind words on tumblr so far! Reviews/questions are appreciated, as always._

* * *

Peeta was slumped down in his seat, scrolling through Facebook on his phone while he waited for Anatomy to start, when a voice in his ear startled him. "I found you."

He craned his head around to glance over his shoulder. Katniss was sitting in the row behind him, leaning against the back of his seat. "Oh, hey," he said, pocketing his phone.

She smiled. "So, I figured there was no sense in you sitting by yourself when we share this class together. Do you want to sit with me and my friend?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, uh, okay. Sure." She stood up, and he followed suit, scooping up his notebook and backpack. She led him to the front of the classroom where she sat down next to the blonde girl he remembered seeing her with before. "Hey, Izzy, this is my lab partner, Peeta. Peeta, this is Izzy."

Izzy smiled pleasantly at him. "Hi, Peeta."

He quirked a nervous smile in her direction as he sat down on Katniss' other side. "Uh, hi, nice to meet you."

Peeta was quiet while Katniss chatted with Izzy, not sure whether he should join the conversation; he didn't have anything interesting to say, anyway, so he just watched the front of the class, waiting for the professor to begin the lesson.

"You look really cute in that hat," Katniss whispered in his ear suddenly, her breath tickling his ear. He glanced at her, reflexively touching his backwards baseball cap.

"Uh, thanks," he said quietly, a little embarrassed by the compliment. His gaze swept over her. She wore a short, floral dress, and her dark hair was in a braid, but it was pinned up around the nape of her neck instead of hanging over her shoulder. "You look—really pretty. I mean, you look pretty every day, but..." She just grinned at him, her hand snaking over his arm rest to squeeze his thigh. He cleared his throat, trying not to think about how close her hand was to his dick. Or how she'd touched him the other night. Or how she'd touched herself. He groaned inwardly, trying his level best to will away the mental images that had haunted his thoughts for the past couple days.

It took all of his will power and picturing Professor Beetee naked as he rambled on about the skeletal system to quell Peeta's rising arousal.

* * *

Peeta didn't see Katniss outside of class all week. He figured it was probably a good thing, as he had a lot of homework and studying to do. But he still thought about her constantly, often working himself up to the point that he had to relieve himself in the shower or in his bed. All he had to do was recall the way her breast had felt in his hand or how her folds had glistened with her desire as she thrust her fingers inside herself , and he was instantly hard. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself—he'd been doing so for the past decade, after all—but what he really wanted was her hand on him again, stroking him to completion.

He lay in bed Thursday night, his mind racing with the same fantasies that had plagued him all week, and he buried his face in his pillow, frustratedin more ways that one. He was just about to give up the fight and slide his hand into his boxers when his phone alerted him to a text. Confused, he grabbed it from his nightstand. It was a message from Katniss.

_Are you asleep yet?_

He rolled onto his back to type out his text. _Not yet. I'm up._

Her reply was immediate. _I hope you mean your cock cuz that's what I wanna talk about._

His heart stuttered, his eyes widening in shock. What was she doing? It took him a moment to formulate a response; his first instinct was to laugh, but he didn't think that would go over well. _What about it?_ He didn't know if he was going for flirty or legitimately confused.

_I keep thinking about how big you felt in my hand the other night, how hard you were. I wish I had seen it so I could picture it when I finger myself._

"Jesus Christ," he hissed, shooting up in his bed as he stared disbelievingly at his phone. Was this real? He briefly wondered if he had somehow fallen asleep already. Did she actually think about him when she masturbated? His head swam at the thought. He licked his lips, his thumbs hovering over his keypad as he struggled with a reply. _I've been thinking about you too. A lot._ Damn, that didn't sound nearly as sexy as what she had sent.

_What have you been thinking about exactly?_

Peeta swallowed thickly, not sure if he could do this. Was he the sexting type? His stomach flipped unexpectedly at the thought. Holy shit, he was actually _sexting_ with a girl. What the fuck was he hesitating for? _I think about the way you touched yourself, the way your nipple felt under my fingers, the way you said my name when you came._ His face burned as he hit "Send." She was going to laugh at him, he was sure of it. He wasn't good at this.

But her response made his straining cock twitch. _God, that made me wet. Are you hard?_

"Fuck me," he groaned as he typed out his response. _Yes._

_Can you touch yourself for me? Right now?_

His hand was already itching for his dick. _Yes._

_Good cuz I'm touching myself too but I'm imagining it's your fingers inside me.  
Tell me when you've come cuz I want you to imagine it's my hand stroking you when you do._

She was going to kill him. Katniss Everdeen was going to be the actual death of him. As he lay back down, his hand wrapped around his aching cock under his shorts. "Oh, God," he moaned quietly, her words seared in his brain. His hand jerked erratically, tugging on his heated flesh in his desperate attempt to relieve himself. As he stroked his cock, he pictured Katniss; it was her hand on him, her palm catching on the head, her thumb spreading the pre-cum around his tip. His grip tightened in earnestness, and when he came, all he could see was the flash of wet folds and dark curls he had glimpsed as she fingered herself Saturday night. He muffled his grunts with the back of his free hand, collecting the stream of semen in his palm.

Once his breathing had leveled out, he crawled out of bed to wash his hand off and clean himself up. When he stumbled back into bed, he picked up his phone to text her but wavered. What should he say exactly? _I finished_, he typed out lamely, feeling just a little ridiculous.

_And did you think of me?_

His cheeks felt warm, but he couldn't be sure if it was because of the sexting or his release. _Yes, I did._

_Me too. I don't think I've ever made myself come so hard before._

This time he couldn't help it; a strange, nervous chuckle bubbled in his throat, and he just shook his head in disbelief at his phone. How was this his life?

_Me neither. That was fun. _Fun? They weren't playing a game of soccer. Fun. _Come on, Mellark, _he berated himself_. _He was already typing out a better response when her next message popped up.

_If you thought that was fun, just wait until we get those test results back tomorrow.  
Meet me outside Taylor at 3, like last time.  
Sweet dreams ;)_

After he'd wished her good night, he settled down under the covers, realizing it was a good thing he'd relieved himself; he didn't think he'd be able to sleep otherwise, not with the prospect of whatever Katniss promised looming in the very near future.

* * *

Once his last class had let out on Friday, Peeta made the trek to Campus Health Services. He was the first to arrive again, so he sat down to wait until he spotted Katniss walking toward him. He stood up to greet her, his stomach already twisting as he recalled their text exchanges from last night. What was she thinking at that moment?

She didn't seem fazed in the slightest as she approached, however, and he couldn't fight the blush when she leaned forward to place a quick kiss on his lips. He glanced around, but the few meandering students within sight didn't pay them any mind. "Don't look so nervous," she said, catching his apprehensive expression. "The results will be fine—unless you've somehow lost that V-card of yours in the past week without telling me." She quirked an eyebrow.

He knew she was joking, but he was quick to protest. "No, no, of course not. I'm not nervous about that," he insisted, his ears warming slightly. Maybe she didn't have to say the V-card thing so loud, though.

She smiled at him, leading him inside the building. "Well, let's get this over with then."

After they'd received the paperwork from the nurse, Katniss dragged him back outside before handing him her test results. "Here you go: all negative."

He glanced at her results as she looked over his, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah, same. So..."

Plucking the paper from his hand, she folded it to stuff in her bag. He did the same with his. "_So_...now the real fun can begin." His eyes widened some, and she grinned wickedly, leaning into him. "If you only knew all the things I plan to do to you," she murmured, and he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, causing her to laugh lightly. Her perfume was faint, dulled by a full day's wear, but he could still smell it on her hair, mingling with the citrus scent of her shampoo. It was intoxicating.

Katniss pulled back with a dramatic sigh. "Too bad I gotta get to work soon, or else I'd start right now." His heart skipped a beat at her words.

"Y-yeah, me too. Gotta work, I mean," he muttered, tugging on his book bag straps. She leaned in to kiss him, but he hesitated when she tried to deepen it, holding her arms stiffly. She pulled back to squint at him.

"Not a fan of PDA, huh?"

He shrugged, rubbing his neck. "Just not used to it, I guess. Sorry..."

He was afraid he had disappointed her, but she just patted his cheek playfully. "Okay, I'll respect your boundaries." He squeezed her hand, smiling shyly; he didn't want her to think him ungrateful. "Do you want me to come by your place again after work?" she asked.

"Oh, okay. Sure," he said, mildly surprised. These were just not questions he ever thought he'd be answering; they still caught him off guard. She grinned cheekily at him.

"Well, guess I'll see you then, partner." As he watched her walk away, his mind burned with thoughts of what she had planned.

* * *

Finnick was really starting to annoy the shit out of him. Once he'd found out Katniss was coming to their apartment to hang out with Peeta, he decided to stick around to pester his roommate with obnoxious questions. Finnick even had a party to go to, but he was delaying his departure just so he could be there when she arrived.

"Have you hit that yet?" Finnick asked, munching on a handful of chips, and Peeta gritted his teeth.

"Stop," he said, pretending to read his microbiology text book. He didn't know why he bothered; it didn't deter his roommate from needling him.

"What about now? Have you hit it now?"

"Shut the fuck up, Finn," he huffed, slamming his book shut. "I'm not going to answer that question."

Finnick sighed loudly. "That's a no. How long are you going to blue ball her?"

Peeta looked at him sharply. "I'm not—" He stopped, shaking his head. "We're taking it slow. Not everybody lets their dick lead them around, you know."

"Well, maybe if your dick was as magnificent as mine, you'd let it steer, too." He grinned at Peeta's withering glare. "You just wait. You'll understand, the moment you have sex; you'll get it then. There's just nothing else in this world as wonderful and magical as when sink your hard, throbbing cock into a girl's wet p—"

"FUCK, dude!" Peeta exclaimed, holding his hand up to cut his friend off, and Finnick just laughed maniacally. Peeta knew he said these things just to get under his skin, but the vulgarity still rattled him. He was worse than Rye, and that was saying a lot. There was a knock on the door, and he flew out of his seat to answer it.

"Oh, goody," Finnick said gleefully, and Peeta briefly wondered if he could convince Katniss to go to her place instead. But she was already here, and he didn't want to be rude. Especially not tonight. Maybe he could run her into his room before Finnick could open his mouth.

When he opened the door, Katniss was already smiling at him. "Hey."

"Uh, hey," he said, his eyes darting between her and Finnick, who was leaning against the dining table now, watching with keen interest. "Come in." She stepped inside, her fingers grazing his stomach, but her hand dropped when she noticed Finnick in the living room. He waved in greeting.

"Hello, Katniss, it's so lovely to see you again," he drawled, and Peeta grimaced from behind Katniss, shutting the door hastily.

"Hi, Finnick. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good. Much better now that you're here," he said, flashing her a lopsided grin. Amused, she glanced at Peeta, who shrugged ruefully.

"Oh? Are you joining our festivities tonight?" she asked as she wandered into the living room. Finnick's face lit up.

"Hey, if you're offering."

Peeta started to panic. What was happening? "Uhh—" But Finnick interrupted him.

"Really, though, I think you and I could have more fun just the two of us. What do you say?"

Katniss seemed to be considering him. Peeta was just about to protest, when she reached forward to cup Finnick's crotch through his shorts. Finnick jumped, astonishment flashing across his face, and Peeta's jaw dropped. Katniss cocked her head to the side, pursing her lips in thought. "Hmm. Nope, not impressed." She turned back to look at Peeta innocently. "Shall we?"

She continued on to Peeta's bedroom. Finnick looked equally as stunned as Peeta did when he passed by him, but then he guffawed loudly, calling after them before the door shut, "I think I'm in love, Peet!" Then he added through the door, "By the way, I'm a grower, not a shower!"

Peeta chuckled weakly, scrubbing a hand over his face in annoyance. "I'm so sorry. I don't even know what just happened," he said, mostly horrified, but she laughed it off.

"It's fine. I've been dealing with guys like him as long as I can remember. I know he's not serious."

He shook his head incredulously. "I don't _think_ he was serious, anyway." For all his talk, Finnick didn't really sleep around. He flirted and made out with girls at parties, but since meeting him their first-year, Peeta couldn't recall him ever taking a girl home unless he was dating her pretty seriously. He was fairly certain that, under the lothario façade, Finnick was just a romantic at heart. "But, well...you're a pretty—uh, _very _pretty girl—_woman_, I mean, so I wouldn't be surprised," he said quickly, but Katniss just shrugged with a grin.

"Well, good thing I'm not here for Finnick." She placed her apron on his desk and sighed loudly, collapsing on his bed. "Man, I'm beat. I think I could just sleep for days right now. Would you be too upset if we just cuddled tonight?" she asked, her eyes round with earnestness, and he blinked stupidly a few times before he could rein in his expression.

"Uhhh, yeah, I mean, that's—no, that's fine," he stammered, but she laughed, a tinkling musical sound.

"You're so disappointed; you should see your face," she accused, and he blushed, running a hand through his hair. "I was just kidding. Thinking about tonight has really been the only thing getting me through the day."

He blushed even harder, if that was possible. "Yeah...well, me too," he said, quick to add, "but, really, it's okay if you don't—we don't have to...I mean, I'm fine with whatever."

Grinning, she stood up and sauntered toward him. "Are you kidding me? Did last night mean nothing to you?" she joked, but he was flustered.

"It did! I mean, it was fun—I mean, _nice_—uh, it was _hot_," he floundered with his words, but she pressed her fingers to his mouth to silence him.

"Settle down," she teased, replacing her hand with her lips for a soft kiss. She rubbed his arms soothingly. "You don't have to be so nervous. Slow, remember? We're not gonna have sex tonight. There are other things we need to try first." She punctuated her point with a quirk of her eyebrow.

What did that mean exactly? He stared at her stupidly, and she backed him up against the wall. "But first, I have been waiting to do this all day," she breathed against his mouth before sealing it with her own. It was a slow kiss, with an unexpected heat. She leaned her body against his, one hand cradling his face and the other sliding into the curls at the nape of his neck. His own hands held her waist at first, but then, curious, he touched her face lightly, trailing his hand down her neck to caress her braid. Somehow, he realized, this was the first time he was touching her hair, at least deliberately. Her tongue was hot in his mouth, and the way her short nails scratched his scalp—his groin tightened in response.

When she drew back, her quick breaths echoing his, she smiled at him. He smiled back at her, licking his lips; there was that Chapstick taste again. He distractedly stroked her braid, the plaited strands silky between his fingers, and she dropped her hands from his hair, running them over the solid planes of his shoulders and chest. "Can I take your shirt off now?" she asked, and his eyebrows shot up. "I'll take mine off, too."

_Absolutely, yes, _please. "Okay," he said anxiously, and she grinned, grabbing the hem of his shirt. She inched it up, and his abdomen tensed reflexively when her fingertips skimmed over his stomach—he tried not to giggle nervously. She pushed his shirt up, and he pushed off the wall slightly, pulling the shirt off the rest of the way. Her hands came to rest around his ribcage, and her gaze swept over him appreciatively. Then she met his stare.

"Now, you take off my shirt," she directed, and his hands fumbled with the hem of her black shirt; she held her arms up over her head as he peeled it off her. He faltered when her red bra came into view, so she tugged it off the rest of the way, dropping it on the ground with his shirt. And he just stared at her chest, the dip between her breasts so tantalizing, he almost reached a hand out to trace a finger through it.

Katniss leaned into him, her breasts pressing against him, and she threaded her fingers through the dusting of light blonde hair on his chest. He exhaled a shaky breath as she diffused feathery kisses along his pectoral muscles. He pressed his mouth against the top of her head, his hand trembling slightly as he rested it on the crown of her hair. Why was he so nervous? He wondered if there would ever be a day that she didn't make him feel so raw and vulnerable.

"I definitely need to go running with you," she murmured against his clavicle, her hands sliding down his chest to run over his abdomen and around his back. He tried not to flinch away from her touch, his hands dropping to squeeze her shoulders.

"Okay," he whispered for lack of a better response. Her skin was soft under his hands; he wanted to explore her as much as she was exploring him. He very carefully dragged his hands down her back, following the lines of her bra, until his palms dipped into the curve of her back and stopped at the waistband of her pants. She sighed into his chest; he could feel the wetness of her teeth and her tongue as she breathed, her fingers digging lines in his back muscles as if she were raking them through sand. Leaning his head against the wall, he ran his hands up and down her back, content to simply relish in the feel of her skin; she didn't seem to be in a hurry at the moment, either.

After a few minutes, she withdrew her hands from his back to grasp his shoulders, pulling herself up to kiss him. Her tongue sought his urgently, and she soon grew desperate, her fingers lacing together behind his neck to draw him closer; her pelvis shifted against his erection, and he groaned, grabbing her hips to press her closer before he could think. But she didn't object; in fact, she hitched her leg up his thigh, issuing a small moan in appreciation. Her breaths were heavy and moist against his mouth as she kissed him.

"Let's move to your bed," she panted in between strokes of her tongue. He nodded eagerly, and she walked him over to his bed, turning him around to sit him down. She went to straddle him but then cursed, sitting down beside him. "Damn, forgot to take my shoes off. Hold on."

She laughed to herself as she hurriedly unlaced her boots. He watched her longingly at first, then he leaned toward her, meeting her shoulder in an open-mouthed kiss. She tilted her head to look at him as she removed her shoes, and he hesitated. "Is this okay?" he asked, and she smiled.

"Of course. You have my explicit permission to touch me however you want right now, Peeta." That was an overwhelming offer for him; he would start simple. He whispered kisses along her shoulder, one hand gripping her arm, the other tentatively tracing the seams of her bra straps and the clasp that rested between her shoulder blades. His fingertips skimmed her bra cup as he trailed his hand up and down her arm, and he glanced back at her face. She had her boots and socks off, but she sat perched on the edge, her eyes closed and her chin tucked in the crook of her neck as he continued his gentle ministrations. She shivered then and gave herself a little shake, opening her eyes.

"That was nice," she whispered, capturing his mouth in a kiss when his face neared hers. Katniss stood up, breaking the kiss. When her fingers deftly undid her pants zipper, his eyes widened. No way was she about to take off her pants, too.

Her black jeans hit the floor, and he swallowed. She stood before him in only a red bra and a pair of green, very tiny panties. "It's like—Christmas," he blurted, and his cheeks reddened. Fuck, why did he say that out loud? Her eyebrows shot up, and she giggled breathily, straddling his lap. Her breasts were pushed up into his face, and he gawked at them until she dipped his head back to look at her face.

"I guess that's a pretty apt description for what's gonna happen," she mused before sweeping her tongue into his mouth. His hands hovered in the air, paralyzed for a brief moment by fear, until they came to rest on her hips. His fingers grazed the fabric barely covering her ass, then his hands slid up and down her thighs possessively. Dear God, there was so much skin to touch; he didn't know what to do with himself—or her. "Scoot back," she told him, licking and biting at his lips, and together they shifted awkwardly across the bed until his legs were stretched out across the mattress. She pushed him onto his back, and when she unfastened his pants, he involuntarily stiffened.

She noticed, glancing up at him. "Am I moving too fast?" she asked, her hands halting, and he swallowed again, shaking his head slowly. She'd said no sex tonight, right? He wanted too, badly, but now faced with the prospect, his stomach knotted painfully in a bundle of nerves. What if it sucked? What if _he _sucked?

He was lost in his thoughts, not even realizing she had his pants down until she was pulling them off his feet. All that separated his cock from her sight was his boxer briefs, and a nervous flush consumed his neck and face. She crawled between his legs, but she sat down, twisting around so her back was to him. "Here, undo my bra," she said over her shoulder, and he gaped at her back before pushing himself into a sitting position. "You should know how to do this."

"Oh—kay," he replied, his voice catching as he stared uncomprehendingly at her bra clasp. How was he supposed to do this?

"Just push the two sides toward each other, and it should come undone fairly easily," she urged, as if she could read his thoughts. Licking his lips, his shaky hands fumbled with her bra. It slipped from his grasp the first couple of times, smacking against her skin. "Sorry," he mumbled, his face burning, but she didn't complain. She just waited patiently until he got it undone. The tautness of her bra relaxed, the weight of her breasts tugging the fabric down.

Clutching the material to her chest, she swiveled between his legs so she was facing him again. Then, with an endearingly shy smile, she dropped her arms, sliding the straps down her arms until her breasts were exposed, the dark nipples puckered despite the warmth of the room. Peeta nearly swallowed his tongue. "Oh," he breathed, and because he thought it bore repeating, "oh." She was surreal. Even without his pants on, his boxer briefs seemed impossibly tight. Smiling widely, she pushed him into a reclining position again and stretched her body out along his. She kissed him, her tongue sliding against his, and he weakly repeated the gesture, his mind and body too preoccupied with the feel of her nipples brushing against his chest.

There was a nearly naked body on top of him. With breasts, wonderful, incredibly soft breasts, that were attached to a sexy, insanely attractive female, and that female intended to _do_ things to him. What, he hadn't quite worked out yet, but something good was in his near future. And he was going to lose it, Jesus Christ, he was going to explode if she kept rubbing against him like that.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked softly, kissing the corner of his mouth, the bow in his top lip. She must have noticed his inability to properly respond to her kiss.

"Yeah, sorry, just, uh, you feel nice," he stammered, and she smiled.

"Do you want to feel more of me?" she asked, and he nodded. She pressed a kiss to the dip in his collarbone over his throat. "Okay. We'll start there, and then maybe you'll be more up to me touching you." He didn't think he could get any more _up _than he was, really. But based on the feel he'd gotten last weekend, yes, he most definitely wanted to touch her more.

Katniss rolled off of him to stretch beside him; his eyes were transfixed by the sway of her breasts as she moved, and he stifled a groan. She pulled on his arm to get him on his side, placing his hand on her stomach. Then, holding his gaze, she slid it up to her right breast so his palm was cupping it.

_Oh_. That was good. She let his hand go, and he glanced at her face; she smiled in encouragement, so he squeezed her breast, gently at first, then a little more firmly. Katniss sighed, closing her eyes. Blood was rushing in his ears—which was honestly a surprise to him, as he had been sure it was all in his dick by this point—and after a moment of massaging her breast, he caressed her hardened nipple with his index finger, mesmerized by the feel of it. She bit down on her lip, arching just slightly into his hand; Peeta remembered how much she had enjoyed the attention to her nipple last time, so he brushed his thumb over it, back and forth, rolling it between his fingers periodically.

Her stomach tensed as her hips shifted almost imperceptibly on the bed. He heard a tiny gasp from her, and he looked back at her face. "Are you—are you okay?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Yes," she whined breathlessly, her hand squeezing his over her breast, and then her other hand came up to cup his ear. "Use your mouth." He froze in that moment.

"You want me to..."

"Yes," she gasped, tugging his face down toward her breast.

"What—how exactly?" he breathed, wincing at how clueless he sounded. He wasn't a complete neophyte in regards to what a guy was supposed to do with a breast; he'd seen porn, at least. He just wanted to ensure that she liked it.

She looked at him then, sliding her fingers into his hair. "Suck on it, flick it with your tongue, bite it, whatever feels natural," she murmured, and his cock twitched at her words. _Jesus_. Slowly, he lowered his mouth to her breast, screwing up his courage to suck the dark bud into his mouth. Her whimper emboldened him, and he sucked on it harder, causing her to buck off the bed slightly.

He was so entranced by her nipple, he nearly forgot about his hand on her other breast. When he remembered, he pinched the nipple between his fingers, maybe a little too hard, because she yelped. Alarmed, he went to withdraw his hand and his mouth, but her own hands locked around him, fisting in his hair. "No! It's good," she cried, pressing upward into his hand. "Don't stop!"

Amazed by her reaction, he continued his efforts, kneading her breast and swirling her nipple with his tongue. She moaned quietly at first, then a little louder until she was squirming underneath him. "Peeta," she panted, "I need you to touch me, get me off, _please_." She was _begging_ him; he groaned around her breast as she grabbed his hand and pushed it down her stomach, slipping both their hands under the elastic band of her underwear. When she pressed his hand between her thighs, his fingers sliding through the slick heat of her folds, they both groaned simultaneously. Peeta lifted his head from her breast to stare at the juncture of her thighs where his hand was buried.

"Do you feel that?" she gasped, pressing down on his fingers, and he nodded, mystified. "Do you remember what I did the other night?" He nodded again, his fingers reflexively twitching between her legs. "Think you can repeat it?"

"I—I can—I'll try," he whispered apprehensively. She planted her heels on the bed, spreading her legs, and she touched his chin to force him to look at her. She was smiling, but her eyes were hungry and dark.

"I'll direct you, so don't worry." Then she tilted her pelvis some and pressed on his middle and index fingers, pushing them inside her. Katniss moaned, and his mouth parted in awe; she was so wet and warm and _snug._ Peeta sat there stupidly as she pumped his fingers in and out of her a few times before she pulled them out and dragged them up to the peak at her thighs. His slick fingers caught on the hooded cleft at the apex, and she thrust her hips against his hand slightly. "_There_, just...focus there."

He began to stroke her lightly, but she whined impatiently, bearing down on his hand with her own. "A little harder, please," she whimpered. Glancing at her face, he saw that her eyes were screwed shut, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. So he obliged, rubbing her clitoris harder, and she gasped, opening her legs wider to him. She let go of his hand after a moment, bringing her own up to cup her breast. He almost faltered in his movements, watching her play with herself, and then, spurred into action, he dipped his head to her breast again, sucking the nipple into his mouth. The sounds she was making were erotic, and soon he realized that he was thrusting his hips against her side to provide some relief to his aching cock.

"Is this good?" His question was muffled against her breast, his tongue flicking over the pebbled nub, and she nodded frantically.

"Yes! Yes, just keep—_ngh_—keep going! I'm close," she panted, her hips jerking erratically, and her hand wrapped around his again, forcing his fingers to slide in longer arcs over her clit. He felt her stomach tense under his arm, and her fingers cut into his wrist. "Peeta, I'm, _ah_—" Her thighs clamped shut around his hand suddenly, and he startled, stilling his fingers, but her back bowed on the mattress, a chorus of moans falling from her lips. He watched her face, her neck stretching up as she dipped her head back against the pillow. The bliss on her face mirrored that in her bedroom the other night.

She was having an orgasm.

Holy shit, he had just given her an orgasm.

He wasn't aware of the huge grin plastered on his face until she looked at him at moment later and laughed breathlessly. "You look pretty pleased with yourself," she teased, smoothing away some of the hair that stuck to her forehead.

He flushed, but he couldn't wipe the grin off. "Uh, sorry, I just..." He realized his hand was still tucked between her thighs, so he gingerly pried it away, flashing her a sheepish smile. "I just—I've never done that...before...so...yeah."

Her silver eyes sparkled under his bedroom light. "Well, it was good for me, too." She sat up on her elbows, and his gaze lingered on her breasts until she broke his stare with a kiss. "Easy, right?" she breathed against his lips, her fingers grazing the curls on the back of his neck. He shrugged, trying not to smile.

"I guess so, yeah."

She kissed him again, her teeth tugging on his lip, and then she pushed him onto his back, settling on top of him. "Your turn now," she said brazenly, and when he looked surprised, she raised an eyebrow. "I think you've been pretty patient, don't you?" He could only nod. Katniss trailed kisses down his neck and his chest; when her tongue circled his nipple, he jumped slightly, and she muffled her laugh against his skin. Her hand slid down his stomach, her fingers teasing along the waistband of his boxer briefs, and he inhaled sharply.

Sitting up on her knees, one leg between his, she began to tug down on his underwear. She met his gaze with the faintest hint of a smirk curling the corner of her mouth, and he gulped, his eyes darting between her face and the ceiling. Should he watch? He didn't think he had anything to be worried about, but, well...the first time a girl sees your dick, that's a little nerve-racking for any guy, right? He gripped the bed sheets in his fists, and when his cock sprang free, he closed his eyes instinctively. She sighed, and the touch of her fingers on his head startled him, his hips straining toward her touch. His surprised exhalation was swallowed by her mouth; she had snaked back up his body, her weight resting half on top of him.

"I like your cock," she murmured, her teeth scraping at his jaw. He opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he was going to say was lost when she wrapped her entire hand around him.

"Oh, God," he choked out, looking down at his groin. Her thumb stroked the tip, gliding through the moisture gathered there, and she pressed her chest against his side.

"I'm guessing it would be pointless to ask if you have any lube," she said in his ear, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Uh, no, I don't, uh...no lube."

She grinned, her fist tightening around him, and he groaned, his own fists tightening in his sheets. "Well, how sensitive are you? Do I need to use lotion? My spit? What do you like?"

His mouth opened and closed soundlessly before he could speak, his brain struggling to catch up. The feel of her hand on his dick was distracting. "I don't...your hand is...it's fine, like that." He didn't really a problem with discomfort while jacking off unless he did it too much in one day—something he learned fairly quickly in high school. At this point, he'd give anything for her to just _breath_ on or anywhere in the vicinity of his dick; whatever she wanted to do was fine by him.

Her warm breath fanned over his face. "Well, then. Let's get you off." He glanced at her face, but his eyes rolled back into his head when she started to stroke him, her grip tight. She started slow at first, then her pace quickened. He probably should have been embarrassed by the sounds he was making, but he couldn't even bring himself to care. Her hand felt so good on him, it was impossible to think about anything else in the moment. Her lips worried his cheek, his mouth, his jaw, his neck, never lighting on one spot for too long as her small hand tugged on his cock urgently, her fingers catching on the head with each pass. Peeta moaned, his pelvis crashing against her fist every time she hit the base of his cock; the buildup was fast, and his hand clenched at his hair as his head fell back on his pillow.

"You look so hot right now," Katniss whispered in his ear, and he whimpered.

"Feels—_fuck_, Katniss, I—" But he couldn't finish, his release hitting him hard. He grunted as he came, his whole body quivering, and she cupped the head to catch some of his semen, but the rest splattered on his stomach. She held him loosely until he finished, then she released him. When his eyes fluttered open, her face hovered over him. She smiled at him then kissed him, her tongue massaging his slowly until his breathing had returned to soft, shallow puffs through his nose. She pulled away, sitting up over him.

"Let me clean up and grab a rag for you," she said, climbing over to disappear into the bathroom. He heard the water running, and he glanced down at his crotch. His dick had softened some, so he tucked himself back into his underwear. Swallowing past the dryness of his throat, he stared at the ceiling and pushed the sweaty curls off his forehead. When Katniss reemerged from the bathroom, his hand spasmed in the sheets at the sight of her bare breasts; they bounced slightly as she walked toward him, and she handed the washcloth to him. She grinned at him, wisps of her hair sticking out from her braid; he flushed under her stare, quickly wiping his stomach off. He continued to watch her as she retrieved his shirt from the floor and slipped it on. It engulfed her tiny frame.

Crawling back over him, she settled down into bed beside him. He dropped the washcloth to the carpet and looked at her shyly. She was still grinning. "What?" he laughed nervously, and she started laughing, too.

"Nothing, you're just cute."

"Uh, thanks...and—well, thank you, for...that."

She stretched her arms under the pillow, the shirt riding up to expose her panties. "You really don't have to thank me, Peeta. It was a mutual sexual favor. I think we're straight," she said with an easy laugh.

"Okay," he acquiesced, though he still felt like he should express his gratitude for the things she was willing to do to him, to show him. He thought himself a gracious learner. "So, uh...did you want anything to drink or eat or...?" he trailed off, but she shook her head, drawing the sheets up to cover both of them, then she curled against his side.

"I'm okay. It's late though. You wanna just watch some TV and go to sleep?" she suggested, stifling a yawn as she dropped her head to his chest. He agreed and snatched the controller off the nightstand to turn the TV on. He flipped through the channels and nearly burst out laughing when he came across "The 40-Year-Old Virgin."

Either Katniss didn't pick up on the coincidence or she ignored it, so he settled on that channel. He thought he could tell the exact moment she fell asleep, when her fingers gradually uncurled on his chest.

Peeta spent the next half hour staring at the top of her head, adoringly stroking her hair.

* * *

_I don't know about y'all, but I am so glad to get to some character development NEXT chapter...There's only so much porn without plot you can take, right?_


	5. Chapter 5

_**a/n:** I'm so glad so many of you are looking forward to some actual plot development, too. For all you perverts (re: me), don't worry, there where still be plenty of smut. Peeta's got a lot to learn, right?_

* * *

"How's your fuck buddy?"

Peeta frowned, turning his bewildered stare on Finnick. He and his roommates were playing a pick-up game of basketball, since they were all done with classes for the day. He and Thresh were on a team, Finnick and Thom on the other. They had been on the court for an hour or so, but now they were just kind of standing around, shooting the shit—and occasionally the ball. It was fall, but the weather was still a little warm, and Peeta had to use the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

"She's not my fuck buddy," he said, but even as he said it, he was unsure. You couldn't be fuck buddies with someone if you hadn't actually fucked yet. Right?

"Oh, still haven't bumped uglies?" Finnick asked innocently, the ball flying from his hands in an arc; it clanged off the rim, and Thresh caught it, shaking his head at their roommate's words. "What's the hold up?"

"I told you," Peeta repeated, unable to hedge the frustration in his voice. "We're taking it slow."

"So, you two dating then?" Finnick asked, watching Thresh's shot fall through the net. Peeta opened his mouth but stopped himself. Were they? At the puzzled look on his face, Finnick elaborated, "You two gone out to eat or to see a movie? Anything?"

Aside from their one dinner at the pizza place, which he still wasn't sure he could classify as a date, no, they hadn't. They saw each other in class, or when they swung by each other's place after work. And then they just fooled around until they fell asleep.

"Well, no..."

Finnick passed the ball to Thom, who dribbled it between his legs. "You're not dating, but you hook up. Sounds like you got a fuck buddy—without the fucking. A booty call without the booty." Finnick smirked at Peeta, who scowled, but Finnick held up his hands defensively. "Hey, why are you mad? It's not like it's a terrible situation."

Thom laughed. "He's right, Peet. Most guys would kill to be in your position."

Maybe, but that didn't mean it was a position he wanted to be in. He had been so caught up in the physical exploration of their—relationship? arrangement?—he hadn't stopped to think about how to define it. Did he want more, or was he only interested in the sex?

No, if he was only interested in the sex, he would have done it with anybody a long time ago. It wasn't just his general shyness around girls that held him back—though, okay, so, it was obviously a large part of it; it was also because he hadn't met anyone who genuinely interested him, who made him want to crawl out of his comfort zone and actually attempt intimacy with a girl. But Katniss did.

He just wasn't sure what she wanted. Was she only interested in sex? She hadn't pushed for more, but neither had he. She was the one constantly propelling their relationship forward, but she had also said she wanted to be respectful of his boundaries. Maybe she was just trying to respect them now.

For being so open, she was surprisingly hard to read; however, he knew it could just be his general inability to read women. He guessed he would have to be the one to test the waters with her.

After the last time spent at his apartment, Peeta had expected to see her that Saturday night as well. But she had to work that day, and then she said a friend was visiting her for the weekend. What was the name—Gail? Gale? He didn't know if the friend was male or female; she hadn't elaborated, and he hadn't thought to inquire at the time. But now he was a little paranoid—what if it was that guy he'd seen in her photos? Who was he? He must have been pretty important to her to be plastered all over her wall like that, but he hadn't seen or heard anything about him yet. It worried him, frankly, but he wasn't sure he had a right to be worried.

They hadn't even been on a date yet, for fuck's sake.

He tried to rectify that, after their anatomy class Tuesday, by asking if she wanted to get something to eat later that night for dinner. His conversation with his roommates the evening before had been weighing on him heavily ever since. "I can't," she declined, smiling ruefully. "I've already made plans with Madge for dinner."

"O-oh, that's okay," he said, masking his disappointment. His first time asking a girl out, and he had been rejected; it stung a little. When she apologized, he shrugged half-heartedly. "Don't worry about it."

Her face brightened. "But I really need to start studying for that test in lab Thursday. Do you wanna come over after dinner and help me?"

"Oh...sure," he said. Maybe that was a step forward.

Later that night, they sat on her bedroom floor, their textbooks and notes spread out between them.

"So, Haversian canals surround the nerve cells and blood vessels and communicate with osteocytes in the bone," Katniss said, shuffling through her notes, and Peeta double-checked his outline.

"Right," he said with a tired nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. It was getting late; they had been studying in her room for hours, and everything was starting to run together. He figured that was his cue to call it quits. "I think I'm done. I don't think I can put anything more in my head without forgetting something else," he said, stuffing his notes into his textbook and shutting it. He could study some more tomorrow, if need be.

Katniss smiled, leaning back against her bed. "Yeah, I think we've got it. We'll do fine." She pulled her knees up, casually smacking her thighs together. He couldn't stop his gaze from drifting down to the juncture of her thighs. Her tiny shorts left little to the imagination, and his mind flashed back to that night in his room, recalling the moist heat of her folds; it was almost like he could still feel it on his hand. He rubbed his palm on his shorts unconsciously, and when he finally forced himself to look at her face, she was smirking.

Shit. She had noticed him staring. "I..." he trailed off with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. She pushed off the bed and crawled toward him.

"I think a little reward is in order for all that studying, don't you?" she asked in a low, sultry voice, and he swallowed audibly.

"Oh?" he breathed, remembering the feel of her hand on his cock. "What did—uh, what did you have in mind?"

She settled between his legs, her hands gripping his waist, and she leaned forward to kiss him. He laced his hand through her hair to hold her head in place. He was getting more comfortable kissing her. In fact, he was getting downright demanding, he realized; he sucked on her tongue fiercely, his fingers massaging her scalp, and she moaned into his mouth. These days, it seemed like the sound made him instantly hard. She pulled back after a few minutes, her face flushed, and the corner of her mouth curled up. "What I have in mind tonight is something we haven't tried yet."

His eyes widened. All he could think about was sex; they hadn't done that yet. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "What...exactly?"

She grinned broadly, standing up and helping him to his feet. Then she pushed him toward her bed, laying him across her mattress. She crawled over him, her legs on either side of his hips, and she pulled him into another kiss, their tongues dueling wetly. When she retracted her mouth, a string of saliva snapped between their lips, and her pink tongue darted out to catch it. He was breathing heavily now; she still hadn't specified what she wanted to do, and his body tensed in anticipation.

Katniss snaked down his torso, pushing his shirt up to present his skin to her hungry mouth. She peppered open-mouthed kisses along his abdomen and his chest. Her teeth scraped over his nipples, and he involuntarily thrust up against her, his hand palming the back of her head. She smirked up at him, and her hands slithered underneath her to unfasten his shorts, rubbing his erection through the thick fabric. He made a whining sound in the back of his throat, scrubbing a hand over his face. She didn't pull his shorts down all the way, just enough to free his cock, and she kneeled between his legs. His pulse sped up as her warm breath washed over him; her face was so close. She wasn't going to...was she? His cock swelled even more at the thought, and he watched the top of her head anxiously.

She met his gaze again, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips. "Peeta," she hummed, and he felt his balls tighten at the tone of her voice. "I have been wanting to get my mouth on you for weeks now." His jaw dropped, and when her tongue swirled around his head, he gasped, crushing her sheets in his fists. She tongued the slit teasingly, flicking her tongue back into her mouth to swallow the taste. Then she licked the shaft of his cock with the flat of her tongue, wetting it with her saliva; he made some sort of horrifying choking sound as he watched her.

Katniss paused, lifting her face to look at him. He was sure the look on his face was laughable, but she only smiled at him, taking his hands and threading his fingers through her hair so he was grasping both sides of her head. "If you want to thrust into my mouth, you can," she said, her voice husky, and he was too dazed to respond. Her hands came to rest on his hips, and when her mouth engulfed the head of his cock, he inhaled sharply, his fingers digging into her scalp. She lingered there, her tongue circling the sensitive flesh, but, slowly, she descended farther onto his cock, her hand coming up to grip the base.

And then she began to bob her head up and down. Her mouth was so wet, so warm. He groaned, an embarrassingly loud sound in the quiet of her room, and when she moaned around him, the vibrations caressing his heated flesh, he turned his head to try to bury his face in the pillow, sure he was going to explode if he continued to watch her. Katniss sucked harder, and, unbidden, he found his hips lifting off the bed to meet her mouth frantically. He thought maybe he should stop—he was thrusting too hard, surely—but she'd said he could. Her head only seemed to move faster, her hand stroking in tandem with her mouth, her tongue laving the underside of his dick. Intense pleasure coiled low in his gut, and he knew his release was quickly approaching; he started to squeak out a warning, a plea—_something_—but when her hand tugged down on his balls, he lost it.

Peeta grunted, an almost pained sound, as he jerked against her face, but Katniss held him down, flattening her hands over his hips as she eagerly swallowed his semen. Groaning at the sight, he struggled to keep his eyes open; she locked eyes with him as she continued to suckle gently, her lips tugging on his head before she released him. Licking her lips predatorily, she sat up between his legs. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath until he gasped for air, and he ran a hand over his face, his fingers slipping through the sheen of sweat on his forehead.

She pulled his shorts back up for him, then crawled up his body; her face just inches from his, she quirked an eyebrow. "You looked like you enjoyed that a lot," she said smugly, and he laughed weakly for lack of a better response. His first instinct was to blubber his thanks, but he managed to hold his tongue. She dropped her mouth to kiss him, and his body tensed, hesitant at the first touch of her tongue on his. He could taste himself; it was weird at first, but he quickly got over it, his body thrumming at her tongue's caresses.

When she pulled away, he cleared his throat, tentatively touching her arms. "That was...I just...wow," he exhaled breathlessly, annoyed with his inability to articulate his feelings. "Do you, um...should I—I mean, do you want me to...do something?" he fumbled with his question, and she smiled at him.

"I'm on my period right now."

He blinked. "Oh."

She shrugged, her hand ghosting over his brow. "I mean, we _could_, but I _am_ trying to ease you into this slowly, after all." She grinned at him. He didn't know what to make of that. "Not a big deal. I'm fine. I just _really_ wanted to do that. I was tired of waiting," she explained with a light laugh. Then she arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. "But I expect you to return the favor soon, so study up, Mellark."

He was pretty sure that was an exam that worried him more than their anatomy test.

* * *

Peeta was so absorbed in the scene unfolding on his laptop screen, he must have missed the knock on his door because the next thing he knew, Finnick was barging in. "Yo, do you wanna—uh..." Finnick looked at his roommate in confusion as Peeta cursed under his breath, yanking his ear buds out and frantically trying to minimize the window on his computer.

But he was too late; Finnick saw. He barked loudly, "You're in here watching porn? You dog!" Then his eyes widened. "Were you jerking off? Shit, my bad."

Peeta's face was on fire. "No! I'm not jerking off. I'm just—I'm..."

Finnick laughed again. "You don't have to make up an excuse. We all do it. But if you want your privacy when you're watching porn, I suggest locking your door."

Peeta sighed in frustration, rubbing a hand over his face. He used to think just having his door shut was signal enough that he wanted privacy, but he should have known better with Finnick as his roommate. He shifted under his desk to hide his erection. "I wasn't watching porn just to—to..." He didn't want to finish that thought, actually. Maybe it was best if Finnick thought he was in here just jacking it to porn.

Luck was not on his side tonight, however, because Finnick looked down at his desk, squinting at the notebook Peeta had been scribbling in. "Dude...are you taking _notes_?"

Fuck. Peeta slumped further down in his chair, flipping the notebook over. "I just...I needed to..." How could he explain it without Finnick laughing in his face?

"Dude, if you don't know how to have sex by now, I'm afraid you're a lost cause," Finnick said matter-of-factly, and Peeta ran a hand through his hair.

"I know how to have _sex_," he said through gritted teeth. And he did. The basics, anyway. Insert penis in vagina, repeatedly—not that complicated. It was the subtleties surrounding sex he lacked an understanding of, but—anyway, that wasn't even what he was trying to figure out at the moment. "I just..." He huffed an angry sigh, but Finnick snatched the notebook up then, yanking it out of Peeta's grasp. Despite his protestations, Finnick begin to read Peeta's scratchings out loud, holding it out of his reach.

"'_Rub clitoris. Insert two (three?) fingers into vagina. Insert tongue a few times (fast maybe?), then lick up to the clitoris'_—DUDE," Finnick stopped suddenly, turning his wide eyes on Peeta, who was seriously contemplating whether a fall from the third floor would be enough to kill him and put him out of his present misery. "Are you trying to figure out how to perform cunnilingus?"

Peeta was sure the blood capillaries in his face were going to burst at that point. He groaned miserably, and his forehead hit his desk with a resounding _thud._

"You're trying to figure out how to go down on your fuck buddy!" Finnick crowed in delight. "Okay, first of all—never write porn, okay? This is the driest shit I've ever read, and I think my balls actually shriveled up reading this." Peeta drummed his forehead on his desk in a steady beat, kind of hoping he could knock himself out. He was a biology student; he couldn't help being a little clinical. Mercilessly, Finnick continued, "And second, you should have just asked me if you needed advice. I'm the master of cunnilingus, okay? If I could survive on a diet of pussy alone, I would."

Peeta groaned again, louder, hoping Finnick would get the hint to the shut the fuck up, but his roommate just dragged in a chair from the dining table and plopped down beside him. "So, you should be aware that the clitoris might be too sensitive to attack right away when you're just getting started—I don't know, you'd have to let Katniss tell you—but I like to start by gently teasing the lips with my finger, and then I'll bring my tongue into the mix—"

"Finn!" Peeta interrupted, his head shooting up from his desk. "I'm embarrassed enough! I really don't want a lesson from you about—about—"

Finnick raised an eyebrow. "Has she gone down on you yet?" Peeta knew he didn't have to respond—the flush of his face was answer enough. "Got your first hummer, did you? Well, hot damn! Congratulations. Was it good?"

Peeta's head lolled back on his neck so he could stare at the ceiling in exasperated disbelief. He really didn't feel comfortable talking about this, and he had no idea what Katniss would be okay with him discussing with others—nothing, he assumed. But maybe it would help to get another guy's opinion or advice... "Yeah, it was great—I mean, it was phenomenal. Of course, it was phenomenal," he said, unable to quell his blush at the memory of her mouth around his cock.

Finnick smirked in understanding, crossing his arms over his chest. "As long as she's not gnawing on your dick, how could it not be, right? But I bet she expects a little oral in return. And—because I know you—I bet you wanna make sure she enjoys it just as much as you did."

Rubbing his hands down his face, Peeta sighed in defeat. "Yes."

His friend looked downright smug at this point. "Exactly. Now where was I? Oh yeah, so, with my tongue I lick around the lips..."

This had to be the most uncomfortable moment of his 20 years of existence, Peeta was sure. Even more uncomfortable than the time he got an unintentional boner during his valedictorian speech because one of his female classmates in the front row had uncrossed her legs, her gown and dress draping open to reveal a clear shot of her pink polka-dot panties. He had been immensely glad there was a podium in front of his crotch and about four minutes left in his speech.

Peeta tried not to squirm as Finnick went into great detail about how to properly perform cunnilingus on a woman. Though unpleasant, Peeta had to admit that it did sound like his roommate knew what he was talking about. He was tempted to try to take notes again, but he decided that would only make the situation worse.

It felt like hours later by the time Finnick finally wrapped up his lesson, and Peeta was sure his face was frozen in a permanent state of inflammation. "And that's how you make a girl scream your name with just your mouth," Finnick finished proudly, leaning back in his chair and looking pretty pleased with himself. Peeta felt like laughing and crying at the same time.

"Quite honestly, this might just be the worst night of my life," Peeta mused, but there was little hostility in his voice.

"You know, most people have to pay $2 a minute to hear the kind of dirty talking I just did for you, but I'll let your lack of gratitude slide this time, Peet. You just be sure to let your little fuck buddy know where you picked up those masterful tongue skills from."

Peeta shook his head. "You're awfully confident about your oral skills, Finn. Can I get some testimony from some satisfied customers to be sure?" he asked dryly, and Finnick grinned, shifting on the chair to pluck his phone from his pocket.

"Let's see, Leevy was always pretty vocal in her approval of my technique," he ruminated out loud as he scrolled through his phone, and Peeta kicked at him, nearly knocking his phone out of his hand.

"Get the fuck out of my room, you perverted fuck," he sniped, only half joking, and Finnick laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"You're welcome, you ungrateful little shit," he retorted, dragging the chair back into the living room. He stuck his head back into Peeta's room to add, "Oh, and you're better off watching lesbian porn if you wanna learn how to pleasure a woman. It's just hotter, anyway."

Peeta slammed his door shut and flopped back into his desk chair with a groan. He stared at the ceiling, contemplating his next move. Then he pulled his chair closer to his desk and opened a new browser on his computer. _Now, where to find lesbian porn..._

* * *

Finnick hadn't lied about the lesbian porn. It was a goldmine of useful information and—well, a lot of visual inspiration. As if his experiences with Katniss weren't enough to fuel his masturbatory fantasies. He felt like he was overloaded with sexual stimuli, and to make matters worse, he didn't get to see Katniss all weekend, as she had plans with friends. He took more showers than was necessary in that time period.

He wasn't sure if not seeing her was a blessing or a curse, really, because he knew the next time he saw her, he'd have to...perform...orally, and he just wasn't sure he was ready for it. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready, really. So the delay was both comforting and torturous. He kind of just wanted to get it over with.

Which was a horrible way to look at it. He needed to get out of his head, he realized. He was thinking too much about it.

Sunday night, Peeta took a break from his homework to chat with Delly on Gmail. She went to school on the opposite coast, so with the time difference, he didn't get to speak with her as much as he did in high school. She was pretty busy with her new boyfriend, Tomas, anyway. He hadn't told her about Katniss yet, mostly because he didn't know how to classify what they were. It was strange; he usually told Delly everything. But this was something he wanted to keep close to his chest until he knew what he and Katniss were doing. He wasn't sure what Delly's reaction would be—excitement for him or disapproval and quiet judgment. She understood his insecurity with women and had always tried her hardest to boost his confidence, but she was always pretty protective of him, too. And he knew he was the same with her.

Delly had just signed off to get dinner, and Peeta was about to close out of his email, as well; Thresh and Thom were in the living room watching a movie, and he'd told them he'd join them, but, suddenly, Katniss messaged him.

His stomach clenched in excitement. He hadn't talked to her since Thursday. Fuck, he missed her.

**Katniss:** hey partner  
**Peeta:** hey  
how are you?  
**Katniss:** i'm good, a little tired  
and i was just thinking of you :)  
_Sent at 9:25 PM on Sunday_

Her words sent a small thrill down his spine, and he smiled at his computer.

**Peeta:** i was thinking of you too  
**Katniss:** how was your weekend?  
**Peeta:** good, went bowling with the roommates last night  
how was yours?  
_Sent at 9:28 PM on Sunday_  
**Katniss:** oh it was great  
went hiking with madge, jo and annie at grandfather mountain  
weather was really nice  
**Peeta:** sounds really fun  
glad to hear you had a good time  
**Katniss:** :)  
_Sent at 9:30 PM on Sunday_  
do you like to hike?  
**Peeta:** i haven't really done it before i guess  
**Katniss:** uh oh  
i must rectify this then  
that means we need to go hiking together sometime ;)  
_Sent at 9:32 PM on Sunday_

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he shook his head, his mouth slanting into a pensive frown. It was a lovely thought, but he wasn't sure it was worth putting much stock into. She seemed to have a habit of making plans with him that she never intended to follow through on; like the running thing, she still hadn't gone running with him yet.

**Peeta:** yeah i would like that  
_Sent at 9:33 PM on Sunday_  
**Katniss:** good  
sooooo  
fall break is this week  
you going home for it?  
**Peeta:** no i'm staying in town  
_Sent at 9:35 PM on Sunday_

He wasn't far from home, so he could go back for the break if he wanted to. But he didn't want to, at all. Rye's fall break didn't occur the same weekend as his, and Barm didn't live at home anymore. Peeta missed his father, but he really had no desire to see his mother. She always had a habit of turning his visits into opportunities to insult him or disparage his career choice, his lack of a girlfriend—usually, it was just a chance for her to discuss his general disappointment to her as a son.

The more he could avoid those soul-crushing conversations, the better.

**Katniss:** cool  
i'll be sticking around too  
but Prim's coming up to visit and stay with me for the weekend  
**Peeta:** that's cool  
i hope you two have fun  
**Katniss: **thank you  
i don't know if i'll get to see you while she's in town  
but i'd really like to spend time with you wednesday night, before she comes up thursday  
think you'll be available?  
_Sent at 9:40 PM on Sunday_

Shit.

**Peeta:** um sure  
yeah i can do that  
**Katniss:** don't sound too excited :P  
**Peeta:** no i am  
what do you want to do?  
**Katniss:** well i've got a couple things in mind  
and one involves that tongue of yours ;)  
_Sent at 9:43 PM on Sunday_

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His face burned. He wasn't sure how to respond.

**Katniss:** think you're up for it?  
no rush if you're not  
i don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with  
i just can't stop fantasizing about what it would feel like to have your mouth between my legs  
_Sent at 9:44 PM on Sunday_

Peeta rested his forehead on his desk for a moment, his heart racing. Shit. She was unbelievable. Swallowing, he lifted his head back and considered his response.

**Peeta:** i'm definitely up for it  
i really want to please you  
**Katniss:** oh i'm fully confident that you will

He exhaled loudly. Well, that made one of them, at least.

* * *

Climbing the stairs to Katniss' apartment, Peeta tried not to think about what he was supposed to do that night. He had a Tupperware container of chocolate chip cookies tucked under his arm, as per her request; she had asked him after their anatomy class Tuesday if he could make her some.

"It's just that I've had a craving for some _really_ good chocolate chip cookies, but other than the store-bought shit, I'm not really good at making them," she'd said with a pout, blinking up at him with round, gray eyes. And how could he refuse? Chocolate chip cookies were fairly simple to make, and he enjoyed baking, anyway. So he'd gone to the store to get the ingredients Wednesday evening and made them after dinner. The container warmed his skin through his shirt.

Nervously, Peeta knocked on her door; he was almost startled by how fast she opened the door. "Hey," she greeted him, her eyes flashing. Her hair was down, and she wore a white, tight-fitting camisole tucked into a short, ruffled, gray skirt. Her feet were bare, so her legs looked impossibly long. He unconsciously licked his lips before smiling apprehensively at her.

"Hey, um, I brought you these," he said, holding the container out to her, and her eyes widened.

"You actually made me cookies," she said, a note of disbelief in her voice as she took the container from him.

He frowned. "Well, yeah, I said I would." Smiling widely, she pulled him inside and shut the door.

"I know; I've just never had a guy actually make me food before. I'm excited." Katniss led him to the dining table, where she curled up in a chair and cracked open the Tupperware, eagerly digging in.

"Well, I hope you like them. They're my dad's recipe," he said uneasily, taking a seat at the table. He watched her bite into a cookie and chew a couple times before she moaned loudly, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

"Oh, my God, are you kidding me? These are amazing," she mumbled, stuffing the rest in her mouth, and Peeta grinned bashfully.

"I'm glad you like them," he said, and she grabbed another one, holding one out to him as well. He took it. "The trick is to add brown sugar. Not many people do that."

"I can't believe you made these," she said after she'd swallowed another bite, awed. "Have I mentioned yet how awesome it is that you can cook? I mean, I'm glad you're good at so many other things, but I'd keep you around just for this fact alone."

He took a bite of his cookie to hide his embarrassment. What did that mean exactly, "keep you around"? Were they actually dating? Did she only think of him as a fuck buddy? He still didn't know how to broach the subject with her.

Katniss finished her second cookie before she continued, "So, do you wear an apron when you cook? I have this mental picture in my head now."

"Uh, well, sometimes, I might. I guess it depends on how involved whatever I'm cooking is," he said after he'd swallowed his mouthful. She grinned.

"And do you wear nothing but the apron? Because this is what I'm imagining..."

He blushed. "I—well, no, I've never...had much inclination to cook naked. I do live with three other guys, so, uh…" He trailed off into a nervous chuckle, and she pouted playfully, propping her chin in her hand.

"Guess I'll just have to use my imagination then."

Peeta scarfed the rest of his cookie down, his ears heating up. When he looked at her face again, he noticed a smudge of melted chocolate just under the curve of her bottom lip. Hesitantly, he motioned to her face. "Uh, you have...a little..." She narrowed her eyes in confusion, and he worked up his courage to reach over and wipe the chocolate off her lip with his thumb. "Chocolate," he explained sheepishly, and he could see the amusement in her eyes.

Before he could retract his hand, she grabbed his wrist, stilling his hand in front of her face. Slowly, she flicked her tongue out to lick the chocolate from the pad of his thumb, and then she sucked the tip into her mouth, laving it with her tongue. His dick stiffened in his pants, and he had to swallow his groan. With a pleased smile, she released his hand. "Thanks," she whispered, and, embarrassed, Peeta dropped her stare—but his breath caught in his throat when his gaze landed on her lap. The way her legs were folded, he could see straight up her skirt. She was wearing light blue panties today.

Katniss cleared her throat. "So, I'll be honest with you," she started, and his eyes snapped back to her face as she stood from her chair, moving toward him. "I had every intention of watching a movie with you tonight, plying you with popcorn and beer and all that jazz, but..." He had to tilt his head back to look up at her when she stopped right beside his chair. What was she doing? "I want you so bad right now, I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin."

She swung her leg over him and perched on his lap. Out of reflex, he grabbed her waist to steady her, and she smiled at him, holding onto his shoulders. Her crotch nestled against the growing bulge in his jeans. "Oh," he said, swallowing; his mouth was dry all of a sudden.

"I think you want me, too," she asserted, shifting her pelvis to rub against his cock. It wasn't like he could deny it, even if he wanted to.

"I do," he said, warily glancing at the closed door of what he knew to be Madge's bedroom. Katniss shook her head, her mouth drawing closer to his.

"She's already left for break, so we're all alone right now." She kissed him then, almost as hungrily as she had devoured the cookies. The taste of chocolate lingered on her tongue, and he sucked at it greedily. Her hands bracketed his face as their tongues twisted together, and he slid his hands around to her back, drawing her closer to him. Her breasts were pushed up under his chin, and she had his head tipped back to attack his mouth better. He could feel the heat of her even through his jeans; it was dizzying. Katniss pulled back to gulp for air, and he took the opportunity to latch onto her throat, suckling gently on the skin under her jaw. She moaned quietly while his tongue traced the lines and sinews of her neck.

"Peeta," she murmured. She pushed him back suddenly, and, he stared at her, confused. Her hands slid the straps off her shoulders, and then she tugged her camisole and bra down, freeing her breasts under his heated gaze. Shocked, he glanced up at her face. Her eyes were clouded with lust and need, but he could read the request in them clearly. If he wasn't completely hard already, he certainly was then. Wetting his lips, he pressed on her back to arch her breasts toward his mouth, then he wrapped his lips around one of her nipples. She gasped as he swiped his tongue over it, and he sucked on it eagerly. Securing his arm around her waist, he brought up his free hand to cup her other breast. His teeth worried her nipple, a gentle, persistent gnawing, and his thumb circled her other nipple, dragging across the pebbled nub while he squeezed her breast. God, he really loved her breasts. Not that he had anything to compare them to, and, really, they were _breasts_, but her skin was so soft, her nipples so kissable.

Katniss was making soft, whining gasps under his determined ministrations; he was acutely aware of the way her hips were gyrating against his crotch. He bucked against her involuntarily, resting his head between her breasts as he gasped. She moaned, circling her hips against him harder. "Peeta." Her voice was strained. "I—can you take me to my bedroom?"

He looked at her flushed face; her eyes were glassy, and she was breathing heavily. He took a deep breath. "Okay..." he said, twisting his legs out from under the table. She was still in his lap, so he slid to the edge of the chair to get his legs under him, then he stood up slowly, hoisting her up with his arms; she was light, lighter than her muscles suggested. She locked her legs around his waist, hugging his neck as he carried her into her room. He sat her down on her bed, gently; she fell backwards onto her elbows once he did, and he kneeled between her legs, straightening up to look down at her. Her breasts still spilled forth from her top, and her skirt had pooled around her waist. He could see the evidence of her arousal by the damp patch in the crotch of her panties.

He swallowed thickly. "Do you want me to...?"

She chewed on her bottom lip. It was the first time he'd ever seen her look nervous. He wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. "Yes," she breathed. "But do _you_?" His gaze swept over her suppliant form, her hair wild around her face, her breasts puckered, her legs spread in invitation, and in that moment he wanted nothing more than to kneel before her and worship between her thighs as if she were an altar. He had no idea where the impulse was coming from so suddenly, so strongly, but he held onto it.

"I do," he said, the crack in his voice betraying his resolve, and he leaned down to kiss her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her tongue plying his into willing submission. His hand came up to cup her breast, his fingers tugging on her nipple, and she arched into him; her moan was lost in his mouth.

After a few minutes, she pulled back slightly. Her eyes searched his; her pupils nearly swallowed the gray of her irises. "It's okay to be nervous," she said softly, her lips brushing against his with the shape of her words.

He blinked, caught off guard by her statement. "I am," he admitted shyly, and she smiled.

"I was, too, the first time. Giving _and_ receiving," she added. "It's kind of overwhelming." He laughed nervously, more out of habit than anything; he guessed it was somewhat reassuring to hear that, considering she always seemed so confident and knowledgeable. "If it helps, I'm so turned on right now, it probably won't take much to get me off."

His groin tightened at her words. Yeah, the sentiment helped. He trailed his hand down her breast and over her stomach, resting it on her exposed thigh. "Do you—should I take off your underwear now?" he asked timidly, and she nodded. Silently, he slipped his hands under her skirt and hooked his fingers under the waistband of her panties. He almost lost his nerve, but he forged ahead, tugging them down. She lifted her hips off the bed to assist him, and slowly, very slowly, he inched them down her thighs. He faltered around her knees when she was bare to him. His heart nearly stopped at the sight. She wasn't wrong about being turned on; her swollen folds were slick with want, and even some of her dark curls glistened under the bedroom light.

It was the hottest thing he had ever seen. He had to fight the urge to stroke himself through his pants.

"Peeta?"

Her voice jerked him out of his reverie, and when his eyes snapped to her face, he saw that she was stifling a smile. "Oh, sorry," he mumbled, flushing, and pulled her panties off the rest of the way. Her legs free of her underwear, she settled her feet on the mattress, again spreading her thighs to his penetrating gaze. He couldn't stop staring.

"You want it."

He blinked again, wondering how she could read him so easily. Was his face that transparent? He couldn't help the apprehensive chuckle at her knowing tone. "I—I do; I actually..." He cleared his throat, a flush warming his cheeks. "I made sure to—to...figure out how to do this."

She grinned at him. "And who taught you how to dine at the Y?"

His brow creased in bewilderment. "Huh?"

She laughed airily, waving her hand. "Sorry, dine at the Y, you know—eat pussy." He blanched at her bluntness, and her subsequent bark of laughter echoed around the otherwise quiet room. He had to wonder how he had never encountered that phrase before in his life—not even from Finnick. Curiously, he studied the lines and curves between her thighs. Huh. He could see it. The artist in him compelled him to reach his hand out and trace with the tip of his finger the grooves that vaguely arced into the shape of the letter. Katniss gasped at his touch, the muscles in her thighs tensing reflexively, and he pulled his hand back, mainly out of instinct, before he realized she had enjoyed it.

"You don't wanna know," he finally muttered in answer to her question. He really didn't want to be thinking about his roommate at that moment. She shook her head.

"You're right; it's not even important. Just..." She exhaled slowly, gripping the sheets in her hands before releasing them. Then she looked at him. "I wanna see what you can do," she told him, her tone plaintive. He swallowed, gripping her knees tightly, but she must have noticed his hesitation. "Here, I'll get you started," she said, pushing up onto her hands again. His eyes widened when she reached between her legs and slid her own fingers between her folds. Then she leaned toward him, her hand stretched out to him in offering. But she didn't push him. He grabbed her hand and stared at her index and middle fingers that were coated in her arousal. He wavered briefly, then, locking eyes with her, he slowly sucked her fingers into his mouth.

The taste was...different. It was strong, musky, kind of earthy. Underneath it he could taste the salt metallic of her skin and the sweetness of the cookies that lingered.

It was unparalleled. It was _Katniss_. And he wanted more. Sucking on her fingers harder, he bathed them completely with his tongue before sliding them out of his mouth. Katniss' olive cheeks were tinged pink, and her lips were plump and parted, her breaths shallow; he was suddenly torn between which lips he wanted to kiss.

But he pushed on her knees, forcing her legs open again. Her eyes glazed over, but in her daze, she shook her head. "Wait, take your shirt off," she said, her voice low and needy. "I want to feel your skin."

He complied, and once his shirt was discarded, he settled between her thighs again. Katniss collapsed on her back, and when she felt his breath against her, she hooked one leg over his shoulders. He braced his palm against her other thigh, opening her to him even more. He could smell her now; it was all he _could_ smell. It was intoxicating. He inhaled deeply, drawing the scent into his lungs. Then, he delicately traced her folds with his finger, the tip easily gliding through the wetness. She shuddered at his teasing touch. He could see where her clitoris was; it was begging for his attention. He pressed his thumb against it, mimicking a few small circles around it, and her hips jerked, a gasp reaching his ears from above him.

Peeta removed his hand from her thigh to press into her center, sliding two fingers inside her. She moaned, and he marveled at the feel—hot and velvety. All the teachings he'd acquired during his quest to educate himself on precisely this moment rushed into his mind all at once. There were so many things he could do, should do, and he was sure, at any other time, the information overload might have been too stressful to bear. But there was something strangely calming about her feel, her smell, her taste.

It felt like his body knew what it wanted to do, and he just needed to get out of his own way.

Without further thought, he retracted his fingers and spread her open, licking over her in one long stroke. Her hips tried to follow the path of his tongue, but he pushed her back down to the mattress, plunging his tongue inside her. Katniss gasped, her hands threading through his curls to fist his hair, and her heel dug into his back. He took that as a good sign and continued to thrust his tongue in and out, pausing to tease her folds with feathery licks. She was tangy, the taste much stronger directly from the source, and, with every flick of his tongue, her body seemed to slicken even more with her desire. She was so wet; what he couldn't swallow he could feel seeping down his chin.

Or maybe it was his slaver. His salivary glands seemed to be working overtime, enticed by her scent.

Her fists tugged on his hair, guttural sounds falling from her mouth, and Peeta wondered if that was her hint for him to move to her clitoris. His nose skimmed through her damp curls until his tongue lighted on the engorged cleft at the apex of her thighs. She bucked against him at the sudden contact, her moans almost pained. He circled her clit with his tongue, punctuating each pass with a purposeful stroke, until she gasped, "Peeta, _harder_, please—suck on it!"

He wrapped his lips around her clitoris and suckled on it, the tip of his tongue dancing against it. She practically shrieked at the added pressure; he was having a hard time holding her hips down. "Put—use your fingers, too," she whimpered. Puzzled, he was just about to ask her _how_ exactly when she elaborated on a moan, "Fuck me with your fingers, _please_."

Her words sent a jolt of white hot desire to his cock. He laid his arm over her pelvis and positioned his free hand between her thighs, dipping his fingers inside her again. Her hips strained against the restraint of his arm; her desperate mewls were like music to his ears—they were all the encouragement he needed. He sucked harder on her, his fingers pumping in and out of her rhythmically.

"_Fuck_, I'm gonna come," she cried out. And then she did. He felt the contractions of her walls as they tightened around his fingers, and she tugged so hard on his hair, he thought he might see stars. But he didn't let up on her clit until he felt her body relax under him, puddling on the mattress in a useless heap of flesh and bones. Her hoarse moans died in her throat, and her legs flopped open and her arms dropped to the mattress, allowing him to sit up. His mouth and chin were slick from her, so he tried to wipe as much of it off with his hands as he could. The taste still lingered on his tongue, however.

Katniss didn't move at first, her face twisted in pleasure, and her breasts heaved as she panted for air. She was exquisite.

After a moment, she started laughing, a quiet choking sound, and he raised his eyebrows in alarm. Was she laughing at him? He was confused; he thought that had gone pretty well. She had come, at least. She finally opened her eyes to squint at his face, grinning. "I don't know why you were so nervous. That was good," she said on a sigh, and he couldn't help it; he smirked, feeling oddly pleased with himself and his achievement. He reached a hand between her thighs and dragged his fingers through her wet folds. She bucked against him, a whining moan tumbling from her lips.

"Do you want me to do it again?" he asked eagerly, and she looked at him in disbelief before shaking her head.

"No, I want you on your back, and I want your cock in my mouth," she commanded huskily. Until she'd said it, he'd almost forgotten about his achingly painful erection. Katniss sat up and pushed him down onto the mattress. He watched incredulously as she made quick work of his pants, sliding them off his legs. His cock strained against the constricting material of his boxer-briefs until she inched them down his hips to release him. He nearly fell apart as soon as her warm mouth encased him, and she anchored him to the bed with her hands, the fingers on one scraping through the soft trail of blonde hairs winding from his navel to his groin. He groaned quietly in appreciation, his eyes closing of their own accord, and soon she had his hips bucking against her face; her tongue teased the underside of his head, tracing the hard ridge, and she gripped his balls in her hand to roll them on her palm.

"Katniss," he grunted, grasping the sides of her head to help control his thrusts. "I'm—I can't..." She moaned in response, deep in her throat, and the sensation pushed him over the edge. He convulsed underneath her, gasping as he spent himself in her mouth. She swallowed his release as she pulled away, catching errant trickles that escaped down his cock with her tongue.

His heart was pounding against his ribcage. She climbed up his body to lie on top of him, pressing her ear to his chest. They didn't speak for a moment, and when he felt his body return to him, he lifted his heavy hands and rested them on her back. She raised her head, her mouth quirking. "That was fun," she quipped hoarsely, and he chuckled, his gaze drifting to the ceiling.

"Yeah, it was."

She pushed herself onto all fours and crawled closer, ducking her head to capture his lips with hers. Her tongue stroked his lazily, and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. When she pulled away, her eyes gleamed. "You know, if I wasn't already aware, I wouldn't have known that was your first time going down on a girl," she teased, and he felt his face heat up.

"Uh, thanks, I think?" His hand hesitantly smoothed her hair behind her ear. "You told me to study up, so, well—I did."

She smiled. "And how did you prepare, exactly?"

He scratched his head, embarrassed to divulge this information to her. "Well, I...I did some research, and I, uh, watched some porn. And, unfortunately, Finnick also imparted some of his, um, wisdom on me."

She giggled. "I'm sure that was enlightening."

"Well, it was helpful, but I just—I never want to hear some of those words come out of his mouth again," he said, cringing.

"I believe you," she replied, sitting up to tug her bra and top back into place. Then she scooted back and tucked his cock back into his boxer-briefs, flashing him a sly grin. She kneeled on the edge of her bed on her shins, looking at his face. "Do you wanna stay the night?"

"Um, if you want me to," he said, unsure, and she nodded.

"You can use some mouthwash if you'd like. I don't have an extra toothbrush or anything," she explained, standing up. He watched as she pulled off her top and then her bra, snatching up his discarded shirt to slip it on.

"I guess I'm supposed to sleep shirtless?" he questioned jokingly, and she smiled at him, shimmying out of her skirt.

"It's part of the trade-off. Plus, it smells nice," she mumbled, lifting the neckline to inhale the scent of the fabric. He flushed, a warm feeling spreading through his stomach. She scooped up all her clothes and carried them into the bathroom. Once she'd returned a few minutes later, he slipped into the bathroom to rinse his mouth out and take a piss. When he came out, she was already in bed; the door was shut, and the overhead light was off, though she had turned on a small bedside lamp. He climbed in next to her, sliding under the covers. Now that the high of his orgasm was fading, his nerves were creeping back in again; he was never entirely sure what to talk to her about in these moments after they'd finished fooling around.

But, thankfully, Katniss never seemed to be at a loss for words; she was curled on her side, watching him as he stretched out on his back. When he met her stare, she smiled. "So, what do you plan on doing during break?"

He shifted his head on the pillow to look at her. "Not entirely sure, I guess. Not do any sort of schoolwork, for once." Her smile widened. "Finnick and Thresh are going home, so it's just me and Thom. We'll probably play some basketball, go bowling or something." He was kind of inspired to draw, but, for some reason, he felt silly telling her that.

"Sounds fun," she whispered.

"Should be. What are you and Prim going to do?" he asked, and she got this look on her face that she got every time she talked about her sister.

"Well, we're gonna check out some of the different restaurants and shops on Franklin, because I know she is dying to go shopping. And I think I'll take her to the planetarium and the arboretum, too," she said, the excitement palpable in her voice. Smiling softly, Peeta listened to her as she rattled on about their weekend plans and, then, funny stories from when they were younger. He wasn't sure what time they eventually fell asleep, but he knew he could have stayed up all night just listening to her talk if she had asked him to.

* * *

_A few scenes were inspired by/written on request by a few of my readers: **for-prim,** **the-magnificently-angry beaver **and **wildharp**. Don't say I never did nothin' for you. For everyone else, feel free to hit me up on tumblr (**atetheredmind**) if you have questions or requests. Sometimes I can be persuaded, if you're nice/really funny._


	6. Chapter 6

_**a/n:** Thanks for reading, guys, and as always, I appreciate those who've taken the time to review this story._

* * *

At first, he couldn't place the sound that had woken him; with difficulty, Peeta pulled himself from the edge of unconsciousness, cracking his eyes open. He was confused by the dark curtain of hair that draped across his face until he realized Katniss was leaning over him, fumbling for her phone on the nightstand. It was blaring some Top 40 song he didn't immediately recognize.

"Hello?" she answered sleepily, still resting across his chest. "_What_? Already? Sorry, I didn't hear the door—you're early." Blinking, Peeta was confused by the alarm in her voice. She pushed off his chest, throwing him a frantic look, and he rubbed his eyes. "Okay, okay, just—hold on, give me a minute. Bye."

"What's wrong?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from sleep. She was already vaulting herself over his legs, climbing out of bed.

"Prim—she's outside. I didn't mean to sleep so late, and I didn't expect her this soon," she babbled, pulling off his shirt and opening her dresser. She suddenly had his full attention; she was completely nude, and his eyes were riveted to the lovely curve of her bottom. Katniss rooted out some underwear and an over-sized shirt, quickly tugging them on. "I just, I didn't really expect you to be here when she arrived. This is kind of awkward."

His eyes widened, the situation finally dawning on him. Her little sister was outside. Shit. He pushed himself into a sitting position, snatching his jeans off the floor. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you oversleep. Do you want me to hide or something?" he asked, pulling his pants up. _Jump out a window, maybe?_

She laughed nervously, slipping on a pair of pajama shorts. "No, no, I'm not gonna make you do that. It's not your fault. Sorry, I'm just a little frazzled. She's _16_. I haven't exactly—I mean, I don't exactly talk to her about my _sex life_," she said, quickly pulling her hair into a high ponytail.

Nodding, Peeta yanked on the shirt she had just discarded. It was still deliciously warm, having absorbed her body heat. Meeting the little sister of the girl he was hooking up with—this was going to be fucking weird.

Katniss sighed. "Well, let's get this over with," she said anxiously after he'd slipped on his shoes, crossing to the door and opening it. He followed her out, lingering behind her as she opened the door. The blonde girl he recognized from Katniss' photos popped her head in, shoving the door open wider.

"Jeez, about time! I can't believe you'd keep your baby sister waiting like that," she exclaimed, stepping into Katniss' hug. Then her gaze settled on Peeta, who shuffled uncomfortably. "_Oh_."

Fretfully, Katniss glanced back and gestured to him. "Yeah, sorry. Prim, this is my, uh, friend, Peeta. Peeta, this is my sister."

"Um, hi, it's nice to meet you," he greeted, holding his hand out. Prim pushed her sunglasses up to rest atop of her head and shook his hand politely.

"It's nice to meet you, too," she said, then glanced between the two of them, lifting an eyebrow. "Now I see what the hold-up was."

Both of them blushed; he couldn't look either of them in the eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't expecting you so early," Katniss said, quickly changing the subject.

Prim sighed. "I know. Ugh, Mom and Dad have been driving me crazy, though; I pretty much hopped in the car and started driving at the crack of dawn."

Katniss shot her a disapproving look. "You shouldn't have been driving that early. You just got your license," she scolded, but Prim rolled her eyes.

"I got here in one piece, didn't I?"

Peeta was quickly feeling out of place; he decided it was time to make his exit. "Um, I should—I'm gonna get going," he said. Katniss looked slightly relieved, but her eyes were apologetic. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later."

He moved around Prim, opening the front door. Katniss made a soft protesting sound, and he looked back at her. She smiled sadly. "I'll see you later, Peeta."

"Bye, Peeta," Prim chimed in with an easy grin, and he nodded, waving as his mouth quirked into an awkward smile.

"Bye."

He shut the door behind him but halted on the doormat. That could have gone worse, he guessed. Her sister hadn't seemed too scandalized—if anything, Katniss had been more uncomfortable than Prim. He wasn't sure what to make of her uneasiness at having him meet her sister, but he tried to reason with himself that he would have been just as freaked out if their positions were reversed and it were his brother meeting Katniss.

Shaking his head, he jogged down the stairs and headed home.

* * *

Thom was severely kicking his ass in "Super Smash Bros. Brawl" on the Wii when Peeta's phone vibrated in his pocket. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath, trying not tear his eyes away from the TV screen. But the brief distraction was enough for Thom to blow Peeta's guy off the stage. His roommate crowed in triumph while Peeta shook his head, quickly yanking his phone out of his pocket to check the caller ID before his player returned on screen. His eyes widened at the name. Katniss.

"Uh, hold on, I gotta get this. Or you can kill me; it's fine. You're gonna win, anyway," he said hastily, launching himself off the couch toward his room. He shut the door before he answered, "Hello?" He hoped he sounded more casual than he felt. She'd never called him before.

"Hi, Peeta? It's Katniss, hi." She sounded nervous. That was weird.

"Yeah, I've got you in my phone, hey," he said, smiling to himself.

"Right, I know that," she laughed breezily, then she cleared her throat. "Are you busy?"

For her, he was wide open. "No. Do you need something?" he asked, maybe a little too eagerly. He had to remind himself she was still hanging out with her sister; she'd said she didn't think she could see him during the break. Which he imagined meant no sexual dalliances.

"No, I don't _need_ anything, per se," she replied; it sounded like she was stalling. "I just wanted to ask you something. And it's totally cool if you say no, but, uh, so I'm taking Prim to the arboretum tomorrow, and, well, would you like to go? With us, I mean?"

He blinked stupidly at the wall. "You—want me to go with you? And Prim?"

"Uh, yeah, I mean, actually, it was her idea," she rushed out in one breath. "So, it's cool; you should come."

He blinked again. She was actually inviting him somewhere. And with her sister. Who, for some reason, wanted him to come. The thought made his stomach clench in apprehension, but he pushed ahead with his response before he could talk himself out of it, "Okay, sure. Yeah, um, I'd love to—to come."

He thought he heard her sigh on the other end. "Okay. Well. I'll, uh, pick you up tomorrow around 10; is that okay?"

"Sure," he agreed quickly.

"Okay, see you tomorrow then. Bye, Peeta."

"Bye, Katniss," he said before hanging up. He exhaled loudly afterward, staring at his phone. Tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least.

* * *

His palms were sweating when he climbed into the backseat of Katniss' car the next morning. Prim twisted in the passenger seat to grin at him. "Hi, Peeta," she greeted, and he smiled awkwardly.

"Uh, hey, Prim. Hey, Katniss," he said, locking eyes with her in the rearview mirror. She flashed him a smile as she backed out of the parking space. "Uh, how are you guys?"

"Great!" Prim enthused, and Katniss mumbled a similar response, but she seemed preoccupied with driving. "I'm excited about checking out the arboretum. Are you?"

Prim was an awfully chipper person; he guessed the sunny disposition ran in their family. "Yeah, uh, I haven't actually been before, so...should be interesting."

Prim grinned again, holding up a fancy DSLR camera. "I can't wait to take some pictures," she said.

"Oh? Are you a photographer?" he asked, and she shrugged nonchalantly.

"No, not really. Just a hobby, I guess."

Katniss piped up finally, "Don't let her fool you. She's actually really good." Prim rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was secretly delighted by her sister's compliment.

"That's cool," he said quietly. "Uh, I think Katniss mentioned you wanted to be a doctor. Is that—right?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I do. I love helping people. She told me you wanted to be a pediatrician. I think I wanna do that, too, but I'm not sure yet. Maybe oncology."

Katniss had talked to her sister about him? He couldn't help the pleased smile that curled across his lips. "Well, you've got time to figure it out."

They chatted pleasantries for the rest of the short car ride to the arboretum on campus. Prim talked about attending high school back in their small mountain town of Boone, which she was currently skipping to come visit her sister—"I never miss school, so Mom and Dad finally agreed to let me come"—and she told him about their mother, who was a nurse, and their father, a town engineer. They were things not even Katniss had told him about yet, and he wasn't sure whether he should feel wounded or ecstatic that he was finally learning something about her—secondhand and two months after having first met her.

Prim was rambling about her boyfriend, Rory, when they'd finally parked and got out of the car at the arboretum. "Oh, my God, Rory did this funny thing the other day in English class; we were reading Ernest Hemingway out loud and—oh, God, nevermind, I can't do it justice. You should have been there, Katniss," she gushed, giggling to herself. Katniss rolled her eyes, shooting Peeta an exasperated look; he tried to hide his amused smile.

"You're too young to be dating," Katniss grouched as they approached the entrance, and Prim huffed in annoyance.

"Whatever, you were my age when you started dating, too."

Peeta didn't say anything; he tried to remember what he was doing at the age of 16. Oh, right, being an incredibly awkward teenager who busted a nut in his pants pretty much any time a pretty girl smiled at him. Fuck, he did not miss high school.

"I just hope you're being smart and safe," Katniss stressed as they began to walk through the gardens. Prim groaned.

"Not you, too. Come on, Katniss, I already get weekly lectures from Mom," she whined. "I don't know what you two are so concerned about. Rory's a good guy. And y'all know the Hawthornes. In fact, you know them better than most, Katniss."

There was something about the way she said that, something about the embarrassed flush on Katniss' face, that made him uncomfortable. He was confused; how well _did_ she know the Hawthornes, exactly? He studied Katniss' face, but she avoided his questioning gaze, shoving her hands into the pockets of her thin jacket.

"Just take your damn pictures, Prim," she grumbled, and Prim smirked victoriously, readying her camera as she approached a cluster of flowers.

After a moment of awkward silence, Katniss stepped closer to him as they watched Prim snap away. "Sorry," she apologized quietly. "I don't know how it is with your brothers, but Prim can really act her age sometimes. She likes to embarrass me around my friends."

"Um, it's cool," he said hesitantly, and they followed behind Prim as she stopped and started along the route, crouching to examine plants and take photos. "I don't have a younger brother, but sometimes Rye acted like it. He enjoyed torturing me a lot, actually."

She smiled, glancing up at him. "Siblings, huh? Who needs 'em?" she joked, and, smiling, he slid his hands into his pockets as they walked. "She had some of your cookies, by the way. She was seriously impressed."

"Oh?" he asked, kicking at a stone. "I'm glad she enjoyed them."

Katniss grinned; he didn't think it was his imagination that she moved closer to his side. "She thinks you're cute, too. If she didn't already have a boyfriend, I'd be a little worried, actually."

He blushed, his eyes darting between Katniss' face and the back of Prim's blonde head. "Uhhh, that's, uh..." He had no idea how to respond, and she chuckled lightly, her arm nudging his.

"Not that I'd blame her for having a little crush on you," she teased, and he blushed harder, laughing uncomfortably.

"I, well...that would probably be the first high school girl who liked me, so..." he trailed off, embarrassed, and she shook her head.

"I doubt it. I bet there were plenty of girls who thought you were cute but were too intimidated to approach you," she said, her arm now brushing against his with every step they took. That sounded like something his father would have tried to tell him in high school; he sincerely doubted it. Luckily, Peeta was saved the embarrassment of responding because Prim called out to them, pointing out a particularly lovely bloom. They expressed their approval, and she eagerly snapped photos of it.

"So, I feel really bad about rushing you out the other morning," Katniss said suddenly, and he looked at her in surprise.

"Oh, it's fine. I understand."

She continued, "I just—you know, with Prim being there, and I had just woken up. I hadn't had time to work on my tact yet that early in the morning." He shrugged, but she added, her voice an octave lower, "I just wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoyed what we did the night before."

His pulse quickened at her words, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was watching him expectantly. "Uh, I do—I mean, I did, too. Enjoyed it, I mean. A lot."

She smirked slightly, training her eyes ahead of them. "I can't stop thinking about it, actually," she mused, her tone approaching seductive. "Your mouth, your tongue. I can't wait to do it again."

Jesus Christ. He stared at the ground, trying not to think about her taste, her smell, and thinking of nothing but; his pants tightened at the mental assault of their last night together, and he was infinitely glad his hands were already in his pockets so he could discretely adjust his growing erection. "Yeah," he managed to choke out but left it at that. He was too busy trying to will away his hard-on to formulate a more elaborate response.

Katniss sighed, pulling her hands out of her pockets to tug on his arm. "Anyway, let's enjoy the rest of our tour," she said, guiding him in Prim's direction.

They left the arboretum a couple hours later. They were all pretty hungry, so they decided to grab lunch at Top of the Hill on Franklin Street. He finally started to warm up to Prim; she was 16, but talking to her was a lot easier than talking to the 16-year-old girls he knew when he was in high school. He figured it was because she seemed so much younger to him, almost childlike in some aspects; he had always been better with children. Katniss had loosened up, too, and they talked more freely over their meal. Prim chattered almost nonstop, practically grilling Peeta about his life, but he found he didn't mind. It was a way to open up to Katniss as well without feeling so pressured. She kept looking at him strangely, almost wistfully, and he couldn't decipher it; he noticed it a few times when he'd glanced over at her while Prim was talking only to find her watching him. It made his chest feel warm.

"Did you know Katniss can sing?" Prim asked him, swirling a sweet potato fry in some ketchup before popping it in her mouth. He looked at Katniss in surprise, and she dropped her gaze to her Thai grilled chicken sandwich shyly.

"No, I had no idea," he said, his interest piqued. Prim bobbed her head enthusiastically.

"She's _so _good, too. She almost got a record deal."

His eyebrows shot up. "Really?" he asked, his eyes darting between the two of them where they sat on the other side of the table.

"It wasn't that serious," Katniss interjected before taking a bite of her sandwich, and Prim shot her a look.

"It was. You had an album and everything. Oh, my God, Katniss, you have to play it for him!"

He was stunned. "You had an _album_?"

Katniss lifted one shoulder in a shrug, swallowing her bite; her cheeks were rosy. "It was only like a four-song EP. Not a big deal. A friend of a friend was a music producer and helped me put it together. This was in high school. It's so cheesy—you don't want to hear it, trust me."

He grinned. "I don't know—that sounds exactly like something I would want to hear." She wrinkled her nose playfully at him. "And you almost got a record deal?"

"The producer sent it to a record company. They wanted to sign me, I don't know why," she said modestly, tugging on her braid. "But I decided I didn't really want to be a musician or famous. For that, anyway."

"Why not?" he asked, genuinely mystified.

"I just wanted to do something important with my life, I guess. Something that really made a difference," she said, dropping his gaze, and he smiled softly.

"I can understand that." He took a bite of his pulled pork sandwich.

"You should still make her play it for you," Prim added, glancing at her sister with a grin. "Or just get her really drunk and ask her to sing 'Mockingbird.' She'll do it, every time."

Katniss groaned, elbowing her sister's side. "That only happened _one time_, and you suck for telling him about that." Prim giggled before she took a hearty bite of her edamame burger, and Peeta couldn't hold back his amused chuckle.

After lunch, Katniss drove him back to his apartment. "Thanks for letting me tag along," he said gratefully from the backseat as he opened the door. "It was nice seeing you again, Prim."

She beamed from the passenger seat. "It was fun! I'm glad you came with us."

"I'll be right back, Prim," Katniss said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I'm gonna walk him up."

Surprised, Peeta got out of the car and shut the door. Once she was beside him, he led her into his apartment building. "Thanks for inviting me," he repeated unnecessarily after she had been quiet for a moment. She grabbed his wrist, then, stopping him, and he looked over at her. Before he could think, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him flush against her body, stretching up on her toes to kiss him. It wasn't a quick, casual peck, either; her lips and tongue moved against his with such a ferocious urgency, he had to pull away after a couple minutes to suck some air into his lungs. But she didn't give him much time to recover before she drew his face to hers again, and he was prepared this time, meeting every pass of her tongue with renewed zeal. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, biting down hard enough to hurt; he was perplexed by how good it felt, though, his cock twitching in response. His startled grunt elicited a soft, follow-up kiss to his lip as she sucked on it gently.

"Sorry," she murmured against his mouth, finally pulling her face back to look him in the eyes. She was breathing heavily, too. "I have been wanting to do this since the arboretum. I just don't really feel comfortable kissing in front of my sister."

He nodded stupidly. "Yeah, uh, I get that."

She smiled at him. "You're really good with her."

Shrugging bashfully, he rested his hands on her hips. "I told you—I like kids better than most people," he explained, sheepish, and she nodded as if she recalled. Then she pressed her lips to his one last time.

"Well, I just wanted to give you something to remember me by," she said, her fingers dancing through the curls on the back of his head. He didn't understand how she thought he could possibly forget her.

"Well, thank you," he replied jokingly, and she unwound her arms from his shoulders, stepping back.

"I'll talk to you later, okay? I'll shoot you a text or something this weekend. Prim doesn't leave until Sunday sometime, though."

He nodded again. "Okay. I'll—talk to you later then," he said, still feeling a little dazed, and with a wave she headed back to her car. Shaking his head, Peeta bounded up the stairs. He wasn't sure if Thom was home, but he tried to adjust his boner anyway, just in case.

* * *

Peeta was stretched out on his back, lying on top of the covers on his bed and listening to his iPod, when he heard a muffled sound. Yanking out one ear bud, he twisted his neck to look at his doorway where Finnick stood.

"Oh, hey, finally back?" he asked, folding his arms behind his head. Finnick nodded, leaning against the desk.

"Yeah, my mom wanted me to stick around to have dinner with her before I left," he explained.

"How is she?" Peeta asked conversationally. Finnick had been raised by just his mother; he didn't know his dad, and he was an only child, so he tried to visit her as much as possible. Peeta kind of envied their relationship.

"She's good. She knit me this quilt to bring back," he said with an abashed laugh, rolling his eyes. "I asked her if she ever wanted grandchildren because she was kinda cramping my style."

Peeta laughed. "I don't know, man. Girls might think it's cute. You should carry it around with you; sounds like it might be a real conversation starter."

"Whatever," Finnick scoffed. "Anyway, how was your break?"

"Oh, it was good. Pretty low-key, I suppose," Peeta replied with a shrug. Finnick was about to say something else when they heard a knock on the front door. They shared a puzzled look before Finnick disappeared out of his room to answer it. Peeta turned off his iPod and raveled the ear buds around it, setting it on his nightstand. He heard Finnick open the door, but he couldn't make out who it was.

He was surprised when Finnick called from the living room, "Peet, you got a visitor." His eyes widened. It had to be Katniss. No one else would be visiting him. He was just sitting up when she appeared in his doorway.

"Hey."

"Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked, perched on the edge of the bed. She hadn't mentioned that she was coming over. She smiled at him, running a hand through her long hair to tousle it. She was dressed in a gray long-sleeved shirt and the flannel pajama shorts he was all-too-familiar with by this point.

"Are you busy right now?" she asked, avoiding his question, and he shook his head. He raised his eyebrow when she shut his bedroom door. She moved closer to him, tugging her purse strap farther up her shoulder, and his stomach swooped. What was she doing?

She smiled again. "Peeta, I—look, I'm just gonna be blunt with you. As if I haven't been all along, right?" she posed rhetorically, and he smiled. "I thought I could draw this out a little longer, to really ease you into this, but—I really want you. I want to have sex with you, tonight. Right now."

He gaped at her, feeling his mouth fall open. Well. Shit. It wasn't that he knew it wouldn't eventually happen; he just thought he'd have more time to prepare himself, at least mentally, for the moment. His mouth moved soundlessly while he tried to process her request. She furrowed her brow at him. "Please tell me you want me, too."

He blinked rapidly. How was that even a question? "I—yes. Yes."

Relieved, she smiled wider. Then she pulled her purse off her shoulder and dropped to the floor, dumping the contents out in front of her. "Okay, I brought some things for us," she said, digging through the items. "I got condoms. A couple different kinds. You look like you're an extra-large, but I've got standard, too." He squeaked in disbelief, his face flaming up, and she held up one of the boxes. "This one's got all kinds, like ultrasensitive and ribbed. I mean, we can try whatever." At his dumbfounded expression, she added, "I know you're clean and everything, and I'm on birth control—you should know that; I've got an IUD. But I would just feel more comfortable if we use condoms, at least to start. Okay?"

He was overwhelmed. He didn't have any preference; hell, he wasn't even sure he knew there were so many different kinds of condoms. "Okay," he said, dazed. "What, uh, what's an IUD?"

She smiled. "An intrauterine device. It's in my uterus. You won't notice it." Oh. Right. He swallowed thickly, rubbing his palms over his pant legs, and she continued, "I've got some lube, too. This is water-based. I like it the best. I also brought some warming lube, but, I don't know, that might be too much for right now."

Warming? That sounded...perplexing. How did it warm? She must have noticed his perturbed expression because she giggled lightly. "I'm sorry. This is too much, isn't it?" He just laughed nervously. Katniss shoved the pile out of the way, plucking up one box of condoms and a bottle. "We'll just stick with this for now." She crawled toward him and crouched in front of him. Then she leaned up, bracing herself against his knees, and kissed him. He grabbed the sides of her head, opening his mouth to her. Her tongue swept into his mouth, flicking across his teeth and licking over the roof of his mouth. A moan bubbled in his throat, and he opened his knees more, wrapping his arms around her to pull her closer.

She tipped her head some to break the kiss. "God, I want you so bad," she gasped, pulling herself into his lap. "I wanted you the moment I saw you in lab."

He gulped, his hands sliding to her back. "Me—me too."

"Really?" she breathed against his mouth, and he nodded. Smiling, she kissed him again. Her hips were splayed across his, her groin nestled snugly against his. The thin material of both their pajama bottoms did little to stifle the heat of her, and his cock was hardening steadily as they kissed. She began to shift her hips, sighing into his mouth. "Take your clothes off," she demanded. He faltered for a moment before he yanked his shirt over his head; she was already pulling her own shirt off, too. Her breasts bounced in the cups of her black bra as she dropped her arms. She squeezed his shoulders, pressing her chest toward his face, and he trailed wet kisses along the tops of her breasts.

Sliding off his lap, she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his pants and tugged on them. He leaned back on his hands to lift his hips up. Once she had his pants off, she stepped back and leaned over, shimmying out of her own shorts. He just watched her. He was going to see her naked, fully naked—from the front, he meant; he could hardly believe it. His breathing shallowed just at the thought.

With a smirk, almost as if she could read his thoughts, Katniss reached behind her back, deftly unhooking her bra. When the material fell away from her chest, fluttering to the floor, he licked his lips. She stepped back between his legs, and his eyes followed the slight sway of her breasts. "Take my panties off," she said. He complied, slipping his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down her legs. His heart was pounding, and his gaze lingered on the curls between her thighs before sweeping up the expanse of her smooth stomach to the swells of her breasts. Kicking her underwear aside, she straddled one of his legs to spread hers wider. "Touch me," she commanded, her voice husky, and he didn't have to ask her to elaborate. Quivering slightly, he slid one hand up her thigh. When his fingers grazed over her folds, he heard her breath hitch in her throat; his fingertips slid through the wetness there, then he pushed two fingers into her. She inhaled sharply, closing her eyes, and he wriggled his fingers experimentally before pumping them in and out at a slow pace. She balanced herself on his shoulders, her head falling back, as he continued his ministrations; he could feel her body slickening even more.

"You're—you're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice catching.

Smiling, she looked down at him and pried his hand out from between her thighs. He was confused until she leaned over him and pulled on his boxer-briefs. He helped her get them off, his cock springing free, and he sighed in relief. But now they were both naked, completely, for the first time together, and the occasion did not escape him; he swallowed past the lump in his throat, observing her nude physique again. It just made him harder.

Katniss kneeled between his legs, locking eyes with him. He watched intently as she braced one hand against his knee and wrapped the other around the base of his cock. Then she swirled her tongue around the head, opening her mouth wider to swallow more of him. He groaned, closing his eyes; she stilled her head for a moment, the moist heat of her mouth warming his flesh. He thought he could feel her saliva pooling around his dick. After a moment, her tongue teased the ridge under the head, and he jerked involuntarily up into her mouth. She began to slide her mouth up and down his shaft, pumping her hand in tandem, and he groaned again, lacing his fingers through her hair. He wasn't going to last much longer if she kept going, but it felt too good to stop her.

"Katniss," he gasped, thrusting a little against her face, but she stopped then, sliding his glistening cock out of her mouth.

"I love it when you say my name," she simpered, crawling onto his lap again to kiss him. He jumped a little when his cock grazed between her thighs, but she pushed him down on his back, her thighs spread around his waist. "I want you to say it a lot tonight." He stared up at her, her hair tumbling over her shoulders like black water; his heart was beating fast. "Touch me again, on my clit," she said, a tone of pleading in her voice. Peeta gripped her thigh and reached his other hand between her legs, skimming the folds until he brushed against the swollen cleft; she gasped.

"There?" he asked hoarsely, and she nodded eagerly.

"There!" She bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes fluttering closed, as he began to stroke her clit under his fingers. Her hips began to rock against his palm, her breasts swaying tantalizingly in front of his face, so he reached up his hand to palm one and roll her nipple between his fingers. "You're making me so wet, Peeta," she moaned, her fingers digging into his pectoral muscles as she gyrated above him.

Jesus, she had a way with words that just cut right to the heart of him; he thought he might explode right then. Propping himself up on his elbow, he stretched his neck up to capture her nipple with his teeth. He sucked it into his mouth, his fingers continuing to dance across her clit. Her ass kept brushing against his aching cock, and he moaned around her breast. Suddenly, she sat up and pulled his hand away, looking down at him with dark, hooded eyes. "I want you now," she whimpered.

He exhaled shakily. Then nodded. It was happening. It was actually going to happen. He was going to have sex. Katniss climbed off the bed to grab the condoms. She tossed the lube onto the bed beside him, and he tentatively picked it up to examine the label while she selected a condom. Astroglide. Interesting. His nerves roiled through his stomach as she settled back onto the mattress next to him, tearing open the small plastic package. He watched her with rapt as she slid the condom out. His eyes darted to her face. She was smiling at him, her cheeks flushed with desire. "Let's see how this fits," she murmured, pinching the tip between her fingers and rolling it down onto his cock. He nearly choked on his moan at her touch, fighting to keep his eyes open to watch. Once she had it unraveled over his cock, she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Does that feel okay?"

He wasn't sure how it was supposed to feel. "Yeah, I think so," he said. She directed him to turn the other way on the bed, and once his head hit the pillow, she straddled his waist, snatching up the lube. She squirted a small amount in her palm, then reached between her legs to grasp his cock. Leaning forward, she braced herself against his chest as she coated his entire length with the lube. He thrust into her hand as she stroked him diligently, screwing his eyes shut and trying to choke back his moans. He was going to lose it; fuck, he was too close to finishing. He opened his mouth to warn her, but then she shifted her hips back, positioning him between her thighs.

"Are you ready?" she asked, and his body and his mind were in conflict.

"Yes," he gasped, entranced by the way she slid his head between her folds. His body won out, raging toward its completion, despite the voice in the back of his mind screaming, 'Slow down!'

With a wicked grin, she pushed down onto him. As the head of his cock slid into her, he felt himself swell even more. Moaning quietly, she sank down onto his cock until their hips were locked together; he whimpered as her warm walls hugged him snugly, but he felt the familiar tightening in his balls. He was going to come. Shit ohshit_ohshit_—

"Katniss, I—" His words were lost to him when she lifted her hips to sink back down. And he was done. His horror strangled his moan in his throat, and as his cock pulsed inside her, emptying his load into the condom, he gripped her thighs hard, unable to control the reflexive jerks of his hips against hers. Katniss startled, stilling her movements above him, and he was so glad his eyes were shut so he couldn't see her face. In that brief moment, the pleasure coursing through his body and pooling in his groin kept his abject mortification just at bay. Until she spoke up.

"Did you just...?" she asked, stunned, and this time, not even the euphoria of his release could hold back the tide of shame that seized him.

"I—I...I'm—_I'm sorry_!" he gasped, daring to peek at her face. He wished he hadn't. Her eyes and mouth were wide with disbelief as she stared down at him. The exact look in her eyes was unreadable, but he imagined it was revulsion. He shut his eyes, rubbing his hands over his face. "Oh, God, I couldn't...I'm sorry..."

She didn't breathe a word, and he couldn't look at her again. This was a nightmare. This had to be a nightmare. He had actually fallen asleep while he was listening to his iPod, and everything since then had been an elaborate dream manifestation of his deepest insecurities and fears.

Her soft chuckle alarmed him, and he pulled his hands away to find her trying to smother her laughter, her shoulders shaking with the effort. Oh, God, this was even worse. She was _laughing at him_. She must have noticed the hurt that flashed across his face because her eyes widened. "Oh, Peeta, I'm sorry, I don't mean—" She swallowed another uncontrollable giggle, shaking her head fiercely. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm not laughing at you! I promise."

What the fuck else could she be laughing at then? He squirmed underneath her, his dick softening inside her, and he pushed on her legs to get up. "I should—I'm gonna..." He didn't know what he was going to do—lock himself in his bathroom and cry sounded like a good plan.

She pinned his wrists down to the mattress. "No, wait a minute!" she pleaded. "I'm sorry—I don't mean to laugh. I'm just—I'm so worked up right now, so it's just—it's coming out in inappropriate ways. It was my fault. I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have given you head. It was your first time; I should have realized it would have been too much for you."

He groaned, slinging his arm over his eyes. His face was hot, flushed with mortification. "This is fucking awful. I think this is my worst nightmare realized."

"It's okay, Peeta," she insisted gently. "This happens sometimes. You were too excited. I got you too excited. It's not your fault."

He still couldn't look at her; the urge to crawl into a hole and die was still too strong. She must think him a complete loser. And he was. He couldn't even hold his load for 10 seconds inside her.

Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.

She tugged his arm away so he would look at her, but he found it too difficult to meet her eyes directly. He was too ashamed. "Peeta," she murmured, but he swore her voice was still laced with amusement. God, this fucking sucked. She leaned down to press her lips to his resisting mouth. He was hesitant to the request of her tongue at his lips, but he parted them eventually, allowing her to assuage his ego with the gentle strokes of her tongue against his. "We can do it again," she said after she'd drawn back, her tone hopeful. "You can just go down on me until you're hard, and then we'll have sex again. Okay?"

Exhaling shakily, he nodded his head after a moment. At least, she wasn't going to just get up and leave. That was something, he supposed. She slid off him then and pulled the condom off his now flaccid dick; he cringed, staring at the ceiling as she climbed off the bed to discard the used condom in his bathroom. He didn't even look at her as she walked back to the bed, though the temptation was strong. She lay down beside him on her back, and she turned her head to look at him. "Look, the great thing about sex is that you can do it again," she said lightly, and he finally looked at her. Her gray eyes were kind, her mouth set in a reassuring smile. "Whose first time is all that amazing, anyway?"

She tugged on his arm, urging him to roll on top of her. Carefully, he moved over her, settling between her legs. He swallowed nervously, and she framed his face with her small hands, pulling him down for a kiss. He tried not to think about his failure, instead concentrating on the feel of her tongue and her breasts pressed against his chest. He could do this; he could fix this. He had to at least rectify her surely lowered opinion of him now, prove that he was worth all the time she had spent teaching him everything.

Peeta trailed kisses down her chin and her neck to her breasts where she was already arching in anticipation of his mouth. He sucked on one nipple while his hand kneaded the other breast; her breaths grew ragged, and she rested her hands on his shoulders, digging her fingers into his flesh. When he felt that he had sufficiently lavished them with his attention, he kneeled between her thighs. She pulled her knees up, opening her legs wider for him, and he dove right in, wasting no time. His fingers spread her folds so his tongue could glide through them and thrust inside her; she tasted a little sweeter this time, but he deduced that to be the lube. "Oh!" she gasped, fisting his hair tightly.

At least, this was something he could do right.

Peeta replaced his tongue with his fingers—three, this time, and she groaned, her legs seeming to open even more. He licked his way up to her clit, sucking it between his lips. Her hips strained against his face, her fingernails cutting into his scalp, and she moaned his name loudly. He briefly thought about his roommates—could they hear her? It was entirely possible at least one of them was still in the living room. Normally, he would have been horrified at the idea that someone could overhear them—but he was desperate to redeem himself; he wanted to keep her making those sounds. His cock was already hardening in response.

His mouth was relentless, and he felt her walls tighten and her thighs tremble before she even alerted him. Crying out, she clamped her legs shut around his head while she came, so he lapped at her until she slumped to the bed, releasing him. He pushed her thighs apart to sit up; when he pulled his fingers out of her, they were practically dripping wet, and he sucked them clean. With a whimper, Katniss pushed herself up onto her hands, and he looked at her red face. She was panting as she pulled his face to hers for a kiss.

"Are you ready to try again?" she asked breathlessly. His stomach twisted with nervousness, but his cock was hard and aching. He nodded silently, and she reached for the condoms again, tearing another one open and handing it to him. It was slippery. He stared at it dumbly, but she covered his hands with her own, helping him roll it down over his cock. His breath caught in his throat at her touch, but he didn't feel anywhere close to an orgasm this time. He was immensely relieved as he settled over her, his cock sliding between her thighs again. She applied some more lube to his cock, and then he kind of floundered between her legs momentarily until she guided him in. She lifted her hips to his as he pushed into her, and they both groaned in relief. He dropped his head to rest in the nook of her shoulder to relish the feel of being inside her, and she shifted slightly under him as if to get comfortable.

"Okay, I think we're already off to a better start," she said with a harmless laugh, and he nodded against her shoulder. After a short pause, he pulled his hips back and pushed forward again. Okay, one full thrust—already better than the last time. Yes, he could do this now.

Katniss flexed her fingers on his shoulders, her back arching under him with his continued thrusts. "God, you're so big," she gasped, and he swore his cock hardened even more at her words.

He thrust into her again, grunting at the way her body hugged his. "Katniss," he muffled his moan against her shoulder. "You're...you..."

She grasped the sides of his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. She was panting, rasping tiny moans every time he pushed into her. "What am I? Say it," she demanded, and he whimpered, closing his eyes.

"You—you're so tight," he groaned, his hips colliding with hers in a particularly hard thrust, and he whimpered again when her walls clenched around him. She moaned, and he was surprised when he felt her hand slither between their bodies. He looked down, his eyes widening when he realized she was rubbing her own clit. Fuck, that was incredibly arousing. He smothered his moan by kissing her.

He could feel her hand moving every time their bodies connected, and he knew his second orgasm was imminent. "Katniss, I—I..."

She nodded frantically, her fingers moving faster between her thighs. "I know. I'm close, too, Peeta," she mewled in his ear, lifting her hips to meet his. A few more thrusts, and he was gone; with a loud grunt, he buried himself inside her.

"I'm coming," he gasped into her neck, and she wrapped her arm around his neck.

"Me too," she cried, her head falling back as her body seized under his. The gentle contractions of her walls around his cock while he spilled himself into the condom were intense, and his hips jerked spastically.

"Fuck," he panted, and she hummed euphorically in response as tremors rolled through her body. He didn't even realize his own body was trembling until she pressed the side of her face against his, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hold him.

"That was better, huh?" she asked wryly after a couple minutes, her voice hoarse, and all he could do was nod. They lay there for a moment until he realized he was probably resting too much of his weight on top of her; he pushed up onto his knees, sliding out of her. The condom sagged on his softening cock, weighed down by his cum. He pulled it off, a little unsure what to do with it. "Just tie it off, wrap it in toilet paper and throw it in the trash," Katniss offered helpfully, so he climbed off the bed. He felt extremely self-conscious walking to the bathroom buck-naked, so he grabbed his pajama bottoms on his way.

After he'd disposed of the condom, he put his pants on and slipped back into the bedroom. She was still naked but was sitting up, smoothing down her mussed hair. Looking at him, she smiled and got out of bed, too. He was afraid she was about to leave, but she squeezed his arm as she breezed past him on her way into the bathroom. "I gotta use the bathroom and then I'll come back to bed."

Settling under the covers, he waited for her to reappear. When she did, still as naked as before, it was hard not to stare; he admired her confidence. He admired everything about her, really. Especially her breasts. Definitely her breasts.

She climbed in beside him, snuggling against his side. They were quiet for a moment, him struggling with something to talk about, when she spoke up, breaking the silence of the room, "Well, congratulations, Mellark. You've been deflowered."

He couldn't help it; he laughed in embarrassment, rubbing his face. She laughed, too, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. Her smile was smug but comforting. "I...thank you," he said awkwardly. "For, well...letting me try that again." He blushed despite himself, his mind flashing back to his horrid first attempt. Fuck, that was never _not_ going to be embarrassing.

Her smile spread, the white of her teeth gleaming between her pink lips. "You've got 10 minutes, Mellark, and then I expect you to try that again for a third time."

His eyes widened. Oh, hell.


	7. Chapter 7

Despite how tired he felt, Peeta couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face.

He was having sex. With a smart, attractive female. He and Katniss had done it four times that first night (Well...three—the first time probably didn't count—fuck, that still stung). He had felt like a zombie the next day in class—an incredibly satisfied zombie. Even Finnick had hounded him about it via text that morning while Peeta struggled to pay attention to his first microbiology lesson after the break.

_Congrats on the sex, bro._

Peeta's face purpled as he read the text, and he tried to bite back his smile. _Shut up._

Finnick's response was immediate. _Well, that definitely confirms it. I wasn't entirely sure you weren't just in your room demonstrating those mind-blowing oral skills I taught you! Atta boy. I'll make sure to play 'I Just Had Sex' when you get home.  
_

Shit. Peeta couldn't be too upset, though. At all, really. Because he was having sex. A lot of sex.

He was practically falling asleep in all of his classes that day, but that didn't stop him from going over to Katniss' apartment that night for more. He couldn't deny that, after their initial first night together, he was incredibly worried she would toss him aside. He was a little more confident that she liked him beyond just the bodily gratification they sought in each other (Why else would she have let him intrude on her time with Prim, after all?), but the niggling doubt had reared its head during his shift at the library that night. His fear was eradicated, however, when he received a text from her asking him to come over after work. No doubt the library patrons who came to check out their books were wondering why he had such a shit-eating grin on his face all night.

The first few nights Katniss mainly just eased him into sex, giving him time to adjust and simply enjoy the act on a basic level. And build up his stamina—that was important. He still finished too fast for his liking, but she didn't complain—at least, not out loud. He hoped he was doing enough to please her in other ways, anyway.

And just when he didn't think sex could get any better, they started to experiment with different positions.

He thought he liked Katniss on top the best. There was something about watching her ride him, the way her breasts bounced, the way he could reach between her thighs and stroke her clit until she came, the way she could set the pace and swivel of her hips to make him last longer. Yeah, he was certain that was his favorite position.

Until she had him take her from behind, either while kneeling on the bed or standing at the edge and yanking her hips back to meet his. He couldn't see her face or touch her breasts, unfortunately, but the sounds she made—Jesus. And fucking her in that position, it felt vaguely primal and strangely empowering for him.

Their first foray into doggy-style had been...interesting. Peeta had just really started thrusting when a very sudden, very loud queef startled him; he had jerked back so fast, he nearly tripped over his feet.

"_What—the _hell _was that?" he asked, utterly bewildered, but Katniss was already cackling hysterically._

"_You—you're pulling out too far," she gasped through her laughter. She had slumped to the bed, but she was still on her hands and knees. "You're forcing air into my vagina when you thrust. Just, just don't pull out so far. It's okay. Keep going!" She arched her back, reaching her hand back for him to take it. Dazed, he let her pull him back to the bed, but then he started laughing, hard, his face flushing with heat. That prompted another fit of hysteria from her._

"_I don't—I don't think I can, Katniss. I'm sorry," he choked out, wiping at his tears. "I'm losing it."_

"_No!" She sobered up immediately, grasping his cock in her tiny fist and pumping him dutifully. His chuckle died in a strangled moan as she stroked him. Never mind then; he could still finish. She positioned him between her thighs, his head sliding into her slowly as she pushed back. "Just—more shallow thrusts in this position, okay?" she gasped as he plunged into her, jerking her ass back to connect with his pelvis._

There were more fumbles along the way. He couldn't count how many times he hit his head on the headboard of either of their beds with a particularly wild thrust; he nearly knocked himself out one time and had to ice his head after.

And he even realized there was a downside to having a large dick.

"_Ow, ow, wait!" Katniss cried, and, alarmed, he stilled on top of her, his eyes wide._

"_What? What's wrong?" Her legs were sandwiched between their bodies, her calves on his shoulders, and she pushed him back some to slide her legs out._

"_You're just hitting my cervix like this," she said with a breathy laugh, wincing slightly. With her heels planted back on the bed, she pulled him back down to her, lifting her hips to his again to encourage him. "We just can't do that position right now; it's fine." He mumbled an apology, but she drew his face down to hers for a lusty kiss, and his thrusts continued with renewed enthusiasm. _

It was amazing he got any of his school work done that first week. He had a few midterms right after fall break, too, and he often found himself scrambling to fit in his studying anywhere and everywhere he could—on the bus, at work, during lunch, between classes—just so he could devote the nights Katniss wasn't working to her.

Sex was fantastic, really. Why he had been avoiding it for so long, he wasn't sure—though, he didn't think he would enjoy it quite so much if he were doing it with anyone other than Katniss.

Fuck, that was sappy. He was definitely a goner.

Saturday night, Peeta lay on his bed, flipping through the channels on his TV without really seeing and fighting the sleepiness that usually followed an orgasm. It wasn't even 9 p.m. yet; Katniss had driven right to his place after her work shift had ended earlier that evening, and they had been in bed ever since. He cringed inwardly when he remembered how Finnick, who was hanging out with Thresh in the living room when she'd shown up, had yelled out before the door could shut behind them, "Try to keep it down this time, you animals!"

Well, it wasn't like Peeta hadn't overheard his roommates having sex many times by this point, so he tried not to care too much. And he certainly wasn't going to tell Katniss to quiet down.

His stomach growled then, and he cursed silently. He'd forgotten to eat dinner. He had intended to ask her if she wanted to go out to grab something to eat when she came over, but the second he'd opened the door and she'd flashed him that suggestive smirk, his plans to eat went out the window—well, unless it was her.

"Did you want to get something to eat?" he called to her in the bathroom, where she was cleaning up. She poked her head out the doorway, wrinkling her nose.

"Like, actually go out? I'm kind of tired. And all I have are my work clothes," she deferred, and he frowned pensively at the TV. She flipped off the bathroom light and crossed back to the bed, wearing just his shirt. She climbed onto the bed and straddled his hips so he was looking at her instead of the TV. He rested his hands on her thighs, glad he had put his underwear back on; otherwise, his cock would be rubbing against her bare center, and he didn't need to get hard again so soon. He needed some time to recover. And he needed to replenish his energy first. "What if we order something in?" she suggested, and he shrugged indifferently.

"That's fine. What do you want?"

Her fingers drew indecipherable patterns on his stomach, and he squirmed, swatting her hand away. She grinned. "I don't know. Subs? Pizza?" Her eyes lit up. "Ooh, yes, let's do pizza. Do you want to get Tomato Jake's?"

He nodded, grabbing his phone from the nightstand. "Sure. What do you want?"

About 40 minutes later, they were sitting on the floor of his bedroom with an open box of pizza between them. "Oh!" Katniss mumbled around a mouthful of veggie pizza. She swallowed before continuing, "Before I forget—do you have plans for Halloween yet?" He shook his head, wiping the grease off his hands with a paper towel. "You should come to my apartment next Saturday then. Madge and I are having a party. It's kind of last minute, but you're invited. Your roommates, too, if they want to come."

He smiled. "Okay, sure. Sounds fun," he said and tore off another slice of pizza. "Costume party, I'm assuming?" She nodded, swallowing another bite. "What are you going as?"

"I don't know yet," she replied with an easy laugh. "Like I said, last minute. Guess I've been, well, busy with other things—I almost forgot about Halloween." She flashed him a voracious smile, and he grinned sheepishly, biting into his pizza.

"Uh, yeah, kinda forgot, too," he said, picking an olive off his slice and popping it into his mouth. "Guess I'll need to come up with something simple to wear." Katniss sucked the grease off her fingers, then took a sip of her beer. He sensed her watching him intently, and he met her gaze once he'd taken another bite. "What?"

She smiled again, leaning forward on her knees to crawl toward him. His eyebrows shot up as he watched her; the neckline of his shirt draped loosely on her, giving him a clear view of her breasts underneath. "What are you doing?" he asked, though it was pretty clear what she was doing. She sat in his lap, grasping his face in her hands.

"You have sauce on your face," she said simply, then she latched her mouth to his chin and wetly licked the drop of pizza sauce off. He started to chuckle, but then she moved her lips to his, opening her mouth over his to dip her tongue inside. He groaned softly, dropping his unfinished pizza back in the box, and gripped her hips in his hands. He felt her pushing on his shoulders, so he allowed her to push him down to the floor; she didn't break the kiss until his back hit the ground. "We haven't done it on the floor yet, have we?" she mused, quickly tugging her shirt off so she was completely naked. His dick hardened at the sight.

"Uh, no, we haven't," he breathed, and as she grabbed the condoms from his bedstand, he reached between her legs to unbutton his pants, pushing them and his boxer-briefs down his hips. They could finish the pizza later.

* * *

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" Peeta asked when Finnick finally emerged from his room in nothing but a flannel robe.

Finnick struck what he probably thought was a devastating pose. "I'm a nude model. If anyone wants to sketch me tonight—" Finnick untied his robe, and Peeta started to protest, seriously concerned that his roommate was naked underneath. But Finnick flung his robe open to reveal a pair of white boxer-briefs with a generously scaled outline of a dick drawn in marker. "—I'll be ready for my close-up."

Peeta laughed heartily, doubling over. "A little optimistic about your size, aren't we?" he wheezed.

Finnick tossed his head back haughtily, tying his robe back into place. "Well, you wouldn't know now, would you?"

"Man, I can already guess that we're never going to be invited back to another one of their Halloween parties," Peeta joked, scooping up a 12-pack of Yuengling Thom had picked up for them, as he was the only one of legal drinking age yet.

"Maybe if you'd given me a little more than a day's notice about this party, I could have come up with something a little more elaborate," Finnick sniped, following him out the door and locking it. Their other roommates couldn't make it out for the party; Thresh had to work, and Thom had a date.

"Sorry, it kinda slipped my mind," Peeta muttered as they descended the stairs. His own costume was as hastily made as Finnick's. He had thrown on a polo shirt with a popped collar, khaki pants and boat shoes he borrowed from Finnick; he had a pair of sunglasses resting on the back of his neck and a cardboard sign around his neck with the bromine element scribbled on it; he was a _Bro_mine.

Yeah, he knew it was lame.

"I know—because you've been so busy fucking," Finnick replied with a smirk. "It's pretty nice of your fuck buddy to invite us to her party, though."

Peeta flushed, shooting him a glare over his car as they climbed inside. Right. He still really needed to talk to her about the status of their relationship. The party probably wasn't the appropriate time to have that discussion, however. The next time he saw her, he would ask; he just needed to make sure he didn't get distracted by the sex again.

When they arrived at her apartment 15 minutes later, he was starting to get nervous. He hadn't spent much time with her friends yet, and large gatherings made him slightly panicky. As he knocked, he could hear loud music and talking from the other side of the door. He should have gotten a little drunk before he came; he was a little less socially awkward drunk, at least.

The door swung open to reveal Madge decked in an angel costume, wings and all. "Hi, Peeta! Come on in," she greeted, waving them in.

"Uh, hey, Madge. This is my roommate Finnick," he said, motioning behind him as they crossed the threshold. Finnick flashed her a heartbreaking smile.

"Hello, Madge. You look heavenly tonight." Madge rolled her eyes at the pun, laughing as she shut the door, and Peeta groaned. He offered the case of beer to her when she stepped around them, and she carried it to the kitchen, where Katniss materialized. A wide smile spread across her face when she saw him.

"Hey! There you are," she said. Grinning, he quirked an eyebrow at her costume. She had a cardboard box framed around her head, and she was wearing cat ears, with whiskers and a little cat nose drawn on her face. Her cheeks were flushed, presumably from alcohol, and her eyes were shiny.

"What are—wait, are you Schrödinger's cat?" he asked incredulously, and she laughed, nodding her head. The cardboard box shifted with the movement.

"Get it? Because my name is Kat?" She shrugged then scrutinized his outfit. Another smile. "Bromine? That's funny!" She went to hug him, and Peeta had to tilt his head back to avoid smacking into the box. Finnick made a disgusted noise behind them.

"Gross, nerds," he joked disdainfully, and Katniss pulled back to stare him down.

"Great, I'm so happy you could make it, Finn," she deadpanned, and he looked wounded.

"What? No hug for me?" He pouted pitifully, and she rolled her eyes, reaching around Peeta to hug him.

"And did you forget to get dressed before you came?" she asked, surveying his robe. Peeta intervened before Finnick could flash her.

"He's a nude model. You don't want to see what's underneath," he said. Well, he hoped not, anyway. Katniss raised her eyebrows, her lips forming a silent "Oh."

Finnick winked at her. "Maybe we can have a private session later, if you need to work on your drawing skills."

She shot him a stern look, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "If I need help in that department, I think Peeta would be a better teacher." With that, she tugged on Peeta's arm and pulled him into the kitchen. "Come on, you have to take a shot!" She maneuvered around a few people, stopping in front of the counter where she had laid out a couple cans of Miller Lite, a bottle of Bacardi 151 rum, a bottle of almond liqueur and a few shot glasses. She grabbed three glasses from the cabinet and set them down in front of her.

"What are you making us drink?" Peeta asked uneasily, and she smirked at him, filling the glasses half full with beer.

"Flaming Dr Peppers. I like to call it 'Girl on Fire,' though."

He shared a glance with Finnick. "Uh, why?"

"You'll see," she said cryptically, pouring equal amounts of rum and liqueur in three of the shot glasses. Then she pulled a lighter out of her pocket, and Peeta arched an eyebrow as she lit all three on fire. She moved aside so Finnick could step up to the counter. "Drop the shot glasses in the beer and then chug it. It tastes just like Dr Pepper, I swear."

She picked up one of the shots and Peeta and Finnick warily followed suit. On her count, they dropped them in the glasses and chugged their beer. Swallowing quickly, Peeta winced when the shot glass clanked against his teeth. They slammed their glasses on the counter, wiping their mouths with the back of their hands.

"That did taste surprisingly like Dr Pepper," Peeta mused, and Katniss smiled at them.

"Good, right?"

There was a knock on the door. Katniss moved around them to answer it, but someone else must have opened it because there was a chorus of hellos and then, suddenly, Tall, Dark and Handsome appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. Katniss squealed in surprise. "Gale!"

Wait a minute._ This_ was Gale? Dumbfounded, Peeta watched as the girl he was sleeping with—hopefully dating—launched herself into another man's arms. The man he recognized from all the photos on her wall. Laughing, he lifted Katniss off the ground to hug her, and she wrapped her legs around him. Peeta's jaw dropped, his heart dipping to his stomach. What the _hell_ was she doing?

Gale sat her down, fixing the box on her head, which had listed out of place when they'd hugged. "Why do you look like a cat in a box, Catnip?"

_Catnip_? Peeta recalled her email address, and he couldn't help but wonder if the nickname had come from _him_. Frowning, he glanced sideways at Finnick, who was watching the scene with barely concealed amusement.

Katniss waved her hand dismissively. "It's a nerd joke—what are you doing here? You said you didn't think you could make it!"

He shrugged. "I cleared my schedule. And I wanted to surprise you." She wiggled the devil horns on his head.

"And this is your costume?"

He laughed. "I stopped at the grocery store before I got here. It was all I could find."

Shaking her head, Katniss grabbed his arm and finally—finally—turned back to Peeta and Finnick. Peeta tried to school his features into something other than confused and agitated; he wasn't sure he was successful. "This is my best friend, Gale Hawthorne," she introduced, smiling happily. Hawthorne. Of fucking course. Peeta barely managed to tear his gaze from where her hand rested on his arm to meet his eyes. Gray eyes, like hers. "Gale, the guy in the robe is Finnick." Finnick and Gale nodded at each other. Katniss then smiled at Peeta, and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "And this is my friend, Peeta."

_Friend_. His stomach twisted even more. After everything, he still only ranked as a friend. He struggled to keep his mouth from stretching into a scowl; it spasmed awkwardly in a poor attempt at a smile. "Uh, hey," he managed to get out, clearing his throat.

"Peeta, huh?" Gale said, and he smirked at Katniss. His tone was bemused. He stretched his arm out to Peeta for a handshake, and Peeta took it, gripping his hand tightly. "It's nice to meet you. Katniss has told me a lot about you." Peeta's eyes widened at that. Gale slung an arm around Katniss' neck, and she adjusted her box when he knocked it askew. "Did Catnip also mention I was her first boyfriend?"

Peeta tried to remember how to breathe. "Oh?"

Katniss shot Gale a warning glare. "Gale—" But he continued, smiling smugly.

"Yep. Taught her everything she knows in the sack, so—you're welcome." Peeta's mouth dropped for a second time, his eyes bulging out of his head, and Katniss shoved Gale, who just laughed.

"Oh, please! I'm pretty sure I could teach you a thing or two now!" she snapped, but her smile belied her tone. Gale shrugged, his grin cheeky.

"Well, let's ditch the party, and you can show me what you think I don't already know," he teased, and Peeta was pretty certain his heart had stopped beating. _What the fuck is happening?_ Katniss rolled her eyes at her friend.

"You wish," she retorted, turning back to Peeta and Finnick. "Anyway, feel free to ignore everything Gale says tonight—and feel free to help yourselves to our alcohol. We've got plenty of beer and liquor."

Peeta worked his mouth to say something, but it was like the synapses between his brain and mouth had stopped firing. Gale piped up before he could respond, anyway, "You guys got beer pong set up?" Katniss nodded. "We're on a team, right, you and me?"

She scoffed. "Of course, Hawthorne. We're the defending champs. We've got a reputation to uphold." She grabbed a few beers from the fridge, handing them to Gale. "Grab the table." When he left the kitchen, she turned to Peeta, her eyes contrite. "I'm gonna play some beer pong; I hope you don't mind. You two should make sure to get in there, too. And, you know, mingle." Smiling, she squeezed his hand, but then she was gone, walking into the living room.

Blinking, Peeta finally looked at Finnick, who was watching him with wide eyes. "Well, that was interesting," he offered, and all Peeta could do was shake his head stupidly. Finnick chuckled. "This is gonna be a fun night, isn't it?"

Peeta was sure it was going to be the exact opposite now. His gaze fell on the bottle of 151, and with little thought, he poured himself a shot and hastily sucked it down. Then a second one. It burned, but it was a nice momentary distraction from the maelstrom of confusing emotions raging inside him.

* * *

Peeta didn't know why he was there. He really didn't. It wasn't like Katniss was even really paying attention to him. He didn't know anyone else that well, aside from Finnick, and Finnick being Finnick, he was actually hanging out and getting to know other people. Peeta debated leaving, but he knew he was too drunk to drive. He wasn't sloshed, but he'd had more than he normally drank, hoping it would ease his anxiety and frustration.

It had only exacerbated his bad mood, however. So he just nursed a beer as he watched Katniss and Gale play beer pong, Katniss and Gale take shots, Katniss and Gale laugh and touch each other. He wanted to scream or throw up—maybe both. What the hell was happening? He and Delly were best friends, but he never acted like that with her. He certainly never dated her, and he most definitely never had sex with her. How could you even be friends with someone you used to have sex with? It was a foreign concept to him.

Maybe it wasn't a "used to"; maybe it was a "still were." What did he really know about Katniss? He didn't know what she did when he wasn't with her, whom she saw, whom she slept with. He had no idea if he was the only one.

Fuck. He probably wasn't the only one. For all he knew, Katniss and Gale were going to have sex _tonight_. And poor, stupid, clueless, inexperienced Peeta, he was going to get sent home with a slap on the back and a not-so apologetic "It's been fun, but I've got someone who already knows how to satisfy me."

He had to walk away before he hurled his drink across the room at them. He pushed his way through a group of people around the couch and stumbled toward the patio. When he threw the door open, he was relieved to find no one else was out there. Good. The cool air hit him like a concrete wall, but it felt refreshing on his hot skin. Sliding the door shut behind him, he leaned against the railing to stare at the woods behind the apartment.

He felt like a fool. Why had he even come? This night had not gone at all how he had hoped it would, but, then again, he wasn't entirely sure what he had expected. At least for Katniss to spend some time with him. That would have been nice.

But no. Gale fucking Hawthorne had her undivided attention. Peeta recalled Prim's offhanded comment about just how _well_ Katniss knew the Hawthornes, and he wasn't sure if the bile rising in his throat was from the alcohol or the thought. He swallowed against it and removed the sign from his neck and his sunglasses, dropping his forehead to rest on the wooden railing. He closed his eyes; his head spun. The cold air was sobering, bringing into stark awareness the physical effects of all the alcohol he'd consumed that night. After a few minutes, he heard the door open behind him and stiffened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want to be alone?"

He turned around. Katniss' friend Annie, dressed in a mermaid costume, was frozen at the glass door, watching him skeptically. Forcing a smile, he shook his head. "No, you're fine. I was just getting some fresh air," he mumbled, and she smiled ruefully.

"Well, I guess this isn't going to help with that," she said, gesturing to the unlit cigarette in her hand. "Sorry."

He chuckled darkly. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." Annie shut the door behind her and, zippering the jacket she'd thrown on to shield her mostly exposed torso, she sat down in a patio chair and lit her cigarette. They didn't speak for a moment while she dragged on her cigarette, releasing the smoke from her lungs in a gratified rush of air.

"Are you having a good time?" she ventured curiously, dangling her cigarette between her fingers. He cringed, pushing off the railing to collapse in the chair across from her.

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said flatly. He didn't know Annie well enough—at all, really—to unload his complaints on her; she was Katniss' friend after all, and for all he knew, anything he said would get back to her. If Annie caught any lie in his tone or expression, she didn't call him on it, thankfully. She just smiled, nodded, and took another drag of her cigarette. "You?" he asked, mostly to be polite.

"Yeah, it's cool," she said noncommittally. "Large crowds make me feel claustrophobic after a while, though, so I need to take many smoke breaks." He nodded in understanding. Being the introvert that he was, large crowds often made him wary. "So, Katniss mentioned you were a biology major?"

Peeta tried to keep his face from darkening at the mention of her name. He glanced back inside the apartment, his eyes quickly finding her where she stood near the beer pong table, talking and laughing with Gale and Madge. "Uh, yeah, I am. We're in the same anatomy class." He cleared his throat, his fist tightening around the solo cup in his hand. "What about you? What's your major?"

"Education. Specifically, elementary education. I like kids," she said, her green eyes sparkling even in the dark. They reminded him of Finnick's. Peeta smiled.

"That's cool. I like kids, too," he said, taking a sip of his warm beer. He'd been nursing this one for a while now. "Thinking about going into pediatrics."

She puffed on her cigarette, nodding her head enthusiastically. "Yeah, that's cool. I imagine that would be really rewarding. I can't really stomach blood and vomit and stuff like that, so I think I'll stick to teaching."

He smiled. "Uh, do you remember what elementary school was like? Because I recall a lot of blood and vomit."

She laughed, flicking the ash from her cigarette. "Yeah, you're right. But at least I can try to pawn the cleanup off on someone else, I guess."

Peeta finished his drink, but he didn't move to get another one. It felt better outside, and Annie seemed nice enough, non-threatening. He was sure the alcohol helped, but he didn't feel so nervous talking to her like he did with most girls. It wasn't like anyone missed him inside, anyway.

"So," he started, putting his cup down and folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to retain some body heat. "Why a mermaid?" Annie's lips pursed around her cigarette in a mischievous grin.

He wasn't sure how much time passed while they were out there; his nose and his fingers felt like ice, but he enjoyed talking to Annie. It was the most fun he'd had all night, and for the first time that evening, he wasn't consumed with thoughts of Katniss. She crept in occasionally, but he'd push her away by asking Annie another question, and he refrained from letting his gaze drift to the glass door to seek her out. Annie smoked cigarette after cigarette while they talked, but he mostly didn't mind. A few other partygoers popped out now and then to smoke or answer a phone call, but they were mostly undisturbed.

In the little time they were outside, Peeta felt like he had learned as much about Annie as he knew about Katniss.

They were laughing at a story Peeta was telling about his brothers and his parents' bakery when the patio door slid open. They glanced over simultaneously. Katniss was leaning against the door frame, watching Peeta strangely. The cardboard box was gone, but she still had the cat ears on; her whiskers were kind of faded and smudged. "Hey," she said evenly, her eyes darting between him and Annie.

Annie greeted her warmly, but Peeta's "Hi" was much more subdued. He immediately slipped back into his bad mood from earlier.

"I've been looking for you," she told him, her eyes trained on him. His eyebrow twitched.

"Have you?" He was sure the nastiness had seeped into his voice. Surprise flickered in her eyes, and he tried to quash the remorse he felt at his hostility; he _wanted _to be mad, damn it.

"The party's pretty much over. Most everyone's left now," Katniss said, a little more conversationally, glancing over at Annie. Peeta just nodded. Was that her hint for him to leave? Katniss watched him a moment longer, almost expectantly, then she stepped back from the door. "Are you coming inside or...?"

Confused, he narrowed his eyes, then he looked at Annie. She waved her half-finished cigarette in the air. "I'll be in in a minute."

Peeta stood up, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, it was, uh, nice talking to you, Annie," he said as crossed toward the door, and she flashed him a smile.

"Nice talking to you, too, Peeta. Good night."

He followed Katniss inside, her face still unreadable. Finnick appeared out of nowhere, a wild glint in his eyes. He looked pretty blitzed. "Do I smell cigarettes?" he inquired, peering over Peeta's shoulder.

Peeta ignored him. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, feeling mostly sober enough to drive—and like it was time for him to leave. But Katniss spun around, fixing him with a look that made him squirm, before flicking her gray eyes over to Finnick.

"You can crash on one of our couches, Finn, or the floor. There's plenty of blankets and pillows," she said, scrutinizing Peeta's face one more time, then she turned around and continued toward her bedroom. Finnick had already slipped outside to bum a cigarette from Annie. Peeta surveyed the living room; there were only a couple people who lingered behind, either talking or passed out on a couch. He wondered where Gale was. Thinking about the guy made him sour.

Sighing loudly, he followed Katniss to her bedroom. He wondered if this was going to be when she tried to let him down gently. She stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed as if she were waiting for him. Reluctantly, he headed into her bedroom but stopped a couple feet away from her. She looked at him silently before she huffed and moved around him to shut the door. She circled back to his front, her face hard, and Peeta pulled back at her unexpected expression.

Finally, she spoke. "Are you trying to make me jealous?" she asked, a bitter edge to her voice and in her eyes.

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "What?" Was she joking? "Are you—why would I do that?"

Her mouth puckered into a frown, and she crossed her arms again. "I don't know. You've been acting weird all night."

"_I've_ been acting—are you serious?" he asked incredulously, and she gave him an exasperated look. He felt his hackles rise. "And what do you call how _you've _been acting all night, hanging all over Gale?"

Her eyes widened, her arms dropping to her sides. He could tell she was genuinely baffled, which only enraged him more. "Hanging all over Gale? _What_? That's my best friend! I was not _hanging_ all over him, and that's ridiculous of you to suggest that!"

His face flushed, but he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or anger. "_I'm_ ridiculous? How am I ridiculous for being upset at having to watch you jump all over him, flaunt your past sex life with him in my face and hang out with him all night like you're attached at the hip? I mean, Jesus Christ, you two were talking about going off into another room to have sex right in front of me!" Even as the words left his mouth, he wished he could cram them back down his throat. He realized how insane he sounded—they still had not defined whatever they were doing, and he had no idea if his rage and jealousy were justified. This was new territory for him. He wasn't used to these feelings, this possessiveness he felt toward her.

She glowered at him, and he swallowed the feelings that burned in his throat. "Oh, come on, he was _joking_! And, you know what? You don't know anything about my friendship with Gale, so your insinuations are offensive. I don't get to see him that much as it is, and I'm not going to apologize for spending time with my friends!"

"I'm not asking you to, to apologize for spending time with your _friends_—I just would have liked to have been included in that. And you hardly acknowledged me all night—I mean, I barely even got a fucking hug from you!" he asserted, almost petulantly, but she rolled her eyes.

"You told me you didn't like PDA, Peeta! I didn't think you would want me to kiss you or grope you in front of other people!"

Well, he couldn't really argue that. He had given her that impression, after all. But it was fucking brutal seeing her wield that affection so willingly with another guy and not him. He sighed, running a hand through his curls, but he wasn't sure how to respond. Katniss shook her head, her lip curling.

"And have I _not_ been with you every night for the past two weeks?" she asked tersely. He couldn't answer that either because it was true—but that was the problem. They were together every night, but it was mainly just sex. And he was confused how he felt about that. Why didn't it seem to bother her, this uncertainty about what they were, the unknown status that hung over their heads? Before he could formulate a response, however, she continued, "You know, maybe you were too busy sulking all night, but if you'd bothered to come talk to me or Gale, you might have noticed how he was _actually _hanging all over Madge!" At his dumb expression, she cocked her head. "Yeah, he likes _her_. He's in _her_ bedroom right now. They're probably having sex right now at this moment."

"Oh," he mumbled, dropping her glare. Now that he thought about it, he did recall them talking a lot, whether Katniss was with them or not.

"Is that why you spent the past hour outside talking to Annie?"

Peeta shrugged, feeling stupid and chagrined. "She's nice. I'm not—I'm not good with a lot of people I don't know. I wasn't trying to _do_ anything." He wouldn't know the first thing about making a girl jealous, and it was laughable for her to suggest it.

Katniss shook her head, puffing air through her nostrils. "Well, you spent more time talking to her than to me, which is kind of funny, since you're apparently so upset about me hanging out with Gale too much."

He knew he should just let it go, he really should—but he guessed he wasn't as sober as he originally thought because he could feel the alcohol pushing up all the words that festered in his chest. "What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to think exactly? I don't know anything about your friendship with him because I feel like I don't know anything about _you_, and what I do know, I had to learn from Prim!"

She stared at him in disbelief. "You don't know anything about me, _really_? It's not like I've been a closed book, Peeta. If you ask me something, I answer it—but I'm not really sure how much you've tried to find out about me."

Now it was his turn to stare at her in disbelief. "What? How can you—what do you mean by _that_?"

She gave him a knowing look. "I mean, we have a lot of sex, but if it bothers you, I haven't heard you complain."

"I like the sex!" he exclaimed, his neck flushing. " I just—I mean, I feel like I've tried to ask you out on—on dates or something besides just," he gestured between the two of them wildly, "_this_, sex, but you shoot me down, so it doesn't exactly encourage me to keep asking you! I'd like to—to ask you out, to go do something outside of the bedroom, but it doesn't seem like you're interested!"

Her mouth parted in shocked incredulity. "_Not interested_? You don't think I'm interested in you? Are you forgetting who between the two of us initiates _everything_? Do you think I would have sex with you if I weren't interested? This is ridiculous!"

There was that word again, _ridiculous_; something about it really grated on him. Maybe it was because he'd heard that word enough from his mother while growing up, and maybe he was tired of hearing it. "You know, I didn't ask for this!" he yelled suddenly. "I didn't ask you to be my lab partner, I didn't ask you to invite me to this party, and I didn't ask you to have sex with me—I didn't ask you to take me on like some kind of, of charity project, like I'm some fucking science experiment for you!"

She gaped at him, but her face immediately contorted with outrage. "You really think I'm the kind of person who would pity fuck you? _Really_?"

"I don't know!" he shot back. "That's the problem! I don't know what's real and what's not with you!"

Her glare was withering. The normal Peeta usually avoided conflict; he hated confrontation. It usually made him feel physically sick. He didn't know who he was right then.

"If that's how you feel, then maybe you should just leave," she stated coldly, moving past him to open the door, but he grabbed her wrist.

"Wait a minute!" His voice came out as a growl, surprising even him. But he didn't want to leave, not now. He knew he'd been entertaining the idea most of the night, but now, it was the last thing he wanted. Emboldened by the lingering alcohol coursing through his system, he jerked her back to his side. He half expected her to push him away, to register his demand with shock or alarm—he was never this aggressive—but she met his glare defiantly. Almost as if she were daring him to—to—what? Staring at her, he felt something roiling through the pit of his stomach. Frustration. Rage. Jealousy. But underneath that, longing, desire.

Fuck, even pissed as hell, he wanted her. Badly.

He stopped thinking, drawing her to him for a rough kiss. She didn't resist. In fact, she opened her mouth to his willingly, snaking her arms around his neck to pull him closer. Peeta propelled her backward with the weight of his body until her back hit the door, the knob rattling in the jamb; he probed her mouth eagerly, his tongue finding the familiar crevices of her mouth. He swallowed her moan, and when her fingernails scraped against his scalp and behind his ears, he thrust his pelvis against her stomach involuntarily. Groaning, he broke the kiss and continued to thrust against her as he panted into her neck; the tug of his pants as he moved created a delicious friction, and his cock was steadily swelling.

Katniss hitched herself farther up the door, trying to angle her own pelvis so his thrusts would do the same for her. Pushing her up, he helped align her hips with his, but he halted his movements; instead, he pinned her body with his weight, pressing his cock forcefully against the cradle of her thighs, and she gasped. "Peeta!" He reclaimed her mouth, and this time her tongue clashed with his boldly. Her teeth scraped against his lips and chin in their frenzied movements to dominate the other's mouth, and he remembered the way she'd bitten his lip after the arboretum, how bizarrely erotic it had felt; he tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, first to test it, then harder, sinking his teeth into the plump flesh. She inhaled sharply, her eyes flying open to meet his. The irises were silver bands around the fattening black pools of her pupils; he read desire in their murky depths.

She liked it, too. She liked the pain.

"Peeta," she murmured, but he kissed her again, forcing his tongue into her mouth. He kneaded her breast through her shirt, his fingers clumsily trying to push aside the bra cup underneath to reach the nipple. She arched into his palm, but he quickly grew frustrated and let her legs drop to bear her own weight. He yanked her shirt over her head, knocking her cat ears askance, and then he reached behind her to unclasp her bra—he was much better at it now. She let it slip down her arms, and his hands feasted on her breasts immediately, her nipples hard nubs under his palms. She gasped as his frigid fingers leached the warmth from her skin.

Slumping against the door, Katniss guided his hands over her breasts with her own hands, but then she began to squirm, her hips straining as if seeking his, so he pressed into her again. He was completely hard now, and his pants were incredibly uncomfortable. He needed to relieve himself inside her. Seeming to read his mind, she began to unbutton her pants. "Peeta, I want you," she whispered, her tone plaintive and hungry; it came out more as a request than a statement. He stepped back to watch her pull her pants and underwear off, catching herself on her desk when she stumbled trying to kick them off. Moved to action, he yanked his own shirt off, but he faltered when she turned her back to him, leaning against the desk. "Peeta, now," she demanded, flattening her palms on the smooth wooden surface. His eyes were riveted by the way she wiggled her ass.

"I need a condom," he managed to get out as he hastily unfastened his pants, bunching the khaki material and his boxer-briefs at his hips to free his cock. She just shook her head, the cat ears flopping laughably.

"It's fine—I'm on birth control. Just do it," she whined. When she felt him behind her, she opened her stance wider and dropped to brace herself on her forearms. As he positioned himself between her thighs, feeling the heat of her, he couldn't believe he was about to slide into her for the first time sans barrier. He could barely think straight in the moment, his mind and senses awash in lust and anger and alcohol. His head glided through her slick folds, and he hissed in pleasure. Katniss arched her back, pressing toward him; holding his cock in place, he pushed into her a little before sinking into her fully with one hard thrust. They both gasped, and her head dropped between her arms.

"Holy shit," he groaned, the grip of her velvety walls welcoming him in a way he had never experienced so intimately before. "It's so...you're so wet. And hot. I..."

"Do it hard, Peeta," she pleaded. He grasped her hips in his hands and reared back before pushing into her again, and again. His pelvis slapped against the firm curve of her ass in shallow, rough thrusts, his cock parting her slippery folds every time he surged into her. Moaning with abandon, Katniss gripped the edge of the desk tightly, her face practically resting on the desk. Her cat ears slid down her forehead whenever his hips jerked her body forward until they were dangling in front of her face. She finally ripped them off, hurling them across the room, then she wedged her hand between her body and the desk. He could feel her fingers prodding between her thighs, rubbing around her clit, and he groaned when her fingertips grazed the wet, sticky skin of his engorged cock.

"You feel so good," he grunted, his fingers digging so hard into her hips, he wasn't sure how she could stand it. She started mewling his name over and over again. "I'm gonna come soon, Katniss," he gasped, skirting dangerously close to the precipice. He knew he should wait, slow it down, stop, even, until he had made sure she came, but she kept pushing her hips to meet his every time he pulled back, her walls clenching and unclenching him inside her; he just couldn't. His thrusts were frenzied, searching, begging, and when he came, he accidentally slammed her into the desk with the violence of his thrust. She cried out, but his cursory concern for her was slapped back by his orgasm as he emptied himself inside her, rocking his hips in time with his spurts. He squeezed his eyes shut, panting while his release subsided. After a moment, he realized her hand was still moving between her legs, and he was jerked back into the present. "Are you okay?" he asked, worried he had hurt her.

"Yes," she whimpered into the desk, her breaths muffled. "I just wanna come."

Peeta slumped over her, sliding his hand between them to replace hers. His fingers began rubbing small, furious circles on her clit, and she groaned loudly in relief. His softening dick was still inside her, and soon he felt the telling contractions of her walls around him. Katniss buried her face against the desk as she came, moaning brokenly underneath him. He sighed his own quiet moans into her shoulder blade, relishing the way her body squeezed his cock.

He wasn't sure how long they stayed like that, her back and his chest molded together as their breathing leveled out, but finally he slid out of her, stumbling slightly. His legs felt wobbly. She pushed herself into a standing position, her limbs shaking, and he looked at her wearily as she turned around. "Katniss..." He felt like he should apologize for the argument, for his roughness, but she just pulled his face to hers for a slow kiss.

"Just get in bed, Peeta," she breathed against his mouth. "I'll come to bed in a moment; I need to clean up. We can talk in the morning, okay?" He nodded silently, and she stepped around him to slip into the bathroom. He watched her go, noticing the wetness of his semen sliding down the insides of her thighs as she moved. Peeta stuffed his dick back into his underwear, but he took his pants and shoes off and promptly collapsed onto her bed face-down. Exhaustion was quickly creeping up on him; he barely registered her crawling into bed minutes later, tugging the sheets up to cover both of them. She stretched out across his back, her head resting between his shoulder blades. Her soft hair draped over his shoulder, tickling his lips, but he couldn't be bothered to move it. She was warm. He was warm. It felt good.

"Good night," she yawned sleepily, and he hoped he'd hummed some sort of response before sleep pulled him under.

* * *

_**a/n:** This isn't where I originally wanted to end this chapter, but I realized the next part I had in mind would probably be best to save for the next installment._

_The song "I Just Had Sex" is by The Lonely Island. Check it out if you haven't heard it before because it's hilarious. _

_Thank you so much for reading and reviewing so far! As always, hit me up on tumblr at **atetheredmind**.  
_


	8. Chapter 8

When Peeta opened his eyes, the dim, hazy morning light of dawn shrouded the room. He was aware of a weight bearing down on his back, but it was a comfortable pressure. Closing his eyes again, he inhaled deeply as he nuzzled his nose against the pillow. Ebony and vanilla. Something citrus, too. Katniss. He furrowed his eyebrows and opened his eyes again, craning his neck slightly. He caught a glimpse of her dark head in his peripheral and realized she was the weight anchoring him to the mattress. Her soft, steady breaths reached his ears, and he could feel the comforting compression of her breasts against his back as she snored quietly.

Everything rushed back to him then, the party, the fight, the sex. Peeta cringed inwardly, biting back a groan. What the hell had he been thinking last night? He must have been drunker than he'd realized; the alcohol had made him bold but very, very stupid. Fuck. He tried to recall the exact words he'd flung at her in his fit of jealousy, tried to map out the exact trajectory of their argument that had strung them from hurling accusations at each other to fucking on the desk. It was just a jumbled mess in his head.

Swallowing the dessert in his mouth, he slowly, very slowly, slid out from underneath her. He was sure there was no way he was going to be able to get up without waking her, but with only a grunt of protest, she flopped down on her stomach and twisted in the sheets. Slipping over the edge of the bed, he looked back at her. Her face rested on the mattress just below the pillow, and her raven hair fanned out around her. The covers draped off of her, exposing most of her naked body. His heart stuttered when he noticed the ugly green and purple circular marks on her hip. From when he'd grabbed her to thrust into her. Fuck. He had _bruised _her. And the worst part was, he knew he was hurting her last night, but he hadn't stopped.

He felt sick. And he didn't know if it was from the alcohol or shame. Silently circling the bed, he tried to put on his clothes while making as little noise as possible. He kept his eyes trained on her sleeping form, but she didn't move. Once he had his shirt on, he checked the time on his phone. It was only 6:30 in the morning. He wasn't sure what time they'd gone to bed, but they couldn't have been asleep for that long. Running a trembling hand through his hair, he stared at her bare back for a moment longer. His stomach twisted with regret and guilt; he'd been way out of line last night, with the things he'd said, the things he'd done.

He cursed himself mentally. He never should have gotten as drunk as he had, not when he was that angry.

He needed to get out of there so he could think. With a last, lingering glance at her, he tiptoed to the door and carefully opened it, cracking it just enough to slide through. Peeta shut it gingerly, letting the door knob twist back into place. He scoped out the living room for Finnick and frowned when he didn't immediately find him—he didn't recognize any of the people passed out on the couches or on the floor, actually. But then he spotted his roommate out on the patio.

Odd.

Picking his way through the bodies on the floor, he slid the glass door open. "Finn?" His friend jumped at his voice, twisting in his chair to look at him. "What are you doing?"

Finnick shrugged, but there was a faraway glaze to his eyes. "Nothing, couldn't sleep. Just been doing some thinking."

"Were you out here all night?" Peeta asked, dumbfounded. Finnick shrugged again, so Peeta just shook his head. "Do you wanna head out?"

This time, Finnick gave him an odd look. "You're leaving this early?"

Peeta rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Yeah, I'm not...I'm just not feeling so hot, so I'm gonna go," he said, keeping his voice low, and he turned away from the patio. Finnick stood up and followed him inside, shutting the door behind him quietly. They stepped around the slumbering forms scattered around the living room and slipped out the front door. But even as the physical distance grew between them, Peeta could still feel the tug of Katniss in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

He was buried under his covers, dozing off and on fretfully, when his phone rang. Disoriented, Peeta poked his head out and looked at the screen of his iPhone. His stomach turned to lead at the name. Katniss. Hesitantly, he answered it after a couple more rings. "'ello?" His voice cracked from sleep.

"Where the hell are you?" she asked immediately, and he winced at the confusion and irritation that crackled over the line.

"I'm, uh, I went home," he said uneasily, sitting up. She was silent for a moment, and all he could hear was her breathing.

"You just—you went home," she repeated flatly, and he nodded before he remembered she couldn't see him.

"Uh, yeah. I woke up...early. You were asleep. I just...I decided to go."

"Why, exactly?" Frustration was creeping into her voice. Peeta rubbed his eyes, unsure of his response.

"Well...things were—I just felt weird after last night. I dunno..." He swallowed nervously. "I just—I thought it was best if I left. I just, I needed to think." His apology lodged in his throat; it felt impossible to say at the moment, to acknowledge out loud what had happened.

"You needed to think," she repeated again, her voice strained, and he licked his dry lips. She sighed after a beat, annoyed. "Well, let me know when you've got it worked out, then." Her clipped, thinly veiled anger left him breathless, but before he could respond, she added, "I'll save you the trouble of figuring this one out, though—you don't ever leave a girl's place after fucking her without saying goodbye. _Ever_."

And then she hung up. Shit. She was mad.

"Shit," he breathed out loud, staring at his phone. He put it back on his nightstand and fell backward on his bed. He had honestly thought she wouldn't want to see him this morning, not after last night. How had he managed to fuck this up so colossally in the span of 12 hours?

He was such a fucking plebe when it came to women and relationships. What the fuck was he doing? He had no idea. His friendship with Delly wasn't this hard—but he also didn't want to fuck Delly. Sex really complicated everything, didn't it?

He tried to go back to sleep, but he tossed and turned for another half hour before finally relenting and getting up. He needed to go for a run. That would help clear his head, help him figure out what to do. He quickly got changed and strapped his iPod to his arm before heading out the door. About half a mile into his run, he realized he probably should have hydrated more; he pushed on, however, and turned around after a mile. When he got back to his apartment, he puked in the bushes.

So, the run had been a bad idea. He felt worse, and he was no closer to figuring out how to fix things with Katniss. When he stumbled back into his apartment, he found Finnick lying on the couch, watching TV. He was surprised; considering Finnick had been up all night, it was way too early for him to be up.

"Hey," he called out, disappearing into the kitchen to fill a cup up with water. Finnick replied in kind, his eyes riveted to the TV. Peeta bustled around the kitchen to make some toast to help settle his stomach. Once he had inhaled the bread and his glass of water, he ventured into the living room and flopped down in an armchair. "You're up early."

Finnick shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." He was silent for a moment, then he looked over at him. "You must not have been that hungover this morning."

Peeta pushed the damp hair off his forehead. "I didn't think so, but apparently I am. Avoid the bushes out front if you're smart," he said wryly, and Finnick snickered. Suddenly, he sat up; the expression on his face was so earnest, Peeta was taken aback.

"So, listen...Annie is pretty cool, right?" he asked, trying for nonchalant. Peeta scrutinized his roommate's face.

"I mean...yeah, she's cool. Why do you ask?"

Finnick shrugged again, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I dunno. We got to talking last night; we talked for a really long time, actually. She's really...she's cool. She's interesting. Do you think..." He leaned a little closer, his eyes urgent. "Do you think you could get her number from Katniss? Or—maybe that's too forward. Maybe you could ask Katniss what Annie thinks of me, or have her put in a good word for me, at least?"

Peeta blinked. And tried not to laugh. He was pretty sure if he tried to ask Katniss for Annie's number, she would rip his head off. He swallowed thickly, wiping some lingering sweat off his upper lip. He could feel the prickle of a beginning stubble. He needed to shave. "Yeah...Look, I mean...I totally would, it's just...well..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Katniss is, uh, well, she's pretty pissed at me right now. I don't even know if she's gonna want to talk to me again, so..."

Finnick looked alarmed at first, then confused. "Pissed? What did you do?"

Peeta rubbed his damp palms on his gym shorts. "Well..." He laughed nervously because he didn't know what else to do. "I kind of...we had a—an argument last night. And then we—well, this morning, I woke up and...I left."

"She didn't know you'd left?" Finnick asked for clarification, and Peeta shook his head. "What were you two fighting about?"

Exhaling loudly, Peeta glanced around the room. "Stupid shit, I guess." But he didn't feel like all of it was stupid. Maybe he had overreacted about Gale, but he still felt like his confusion regarding their relationship, or not-relationship, was legitimate. "I was upset about Gale, and I guess she was upset about me being upset." He left out the Annie stuff because it seemed imprudent to mention now.

Finnick regarded him, puzzled. "But you stayed the night. You two didn't work it out before going to bed?"

Peeta blushed. "Well...we, uh, we had—sex—after the fight. Then fell asleep. Katniss, she, uh, wanted to talk in the morning, but I just...I felt weird about everything."

His roommate blinked soundlessly. "Wait. So you guys had an argument. Then you had sex after the argument." Peeta nodded, wondering why his roommate looked so bewildered. Out of nowhere, Finnick started laughing. "Well, no wonder she's pissed at you. You two had makeup sex. You don't leave a girl's house after makeup sex, dude. The sex is supposed to fix all that." At Peeta's clueless look, Finnick laughed again. "Come on, you know what makeup sex is. You two work out your aggression after a fight by fucking, and then afterwards you can resolve everything in a calmer light. Jesus, Peet. It's a wonder she's still putting up with your dumbass."

Peeta scowled, flushing a darker red. "I was drunk last night. I wasn't thinking very clearly." He wasn't about to tell his friend what he was really feeling guilty about, how he'd hurt her while they were having sex. He sighed, distraught. "I just...how do I fix this?"

Finnick smirked. "Grovel, dude." How helpful. With a groan, Peeta pushed himself out of the chair and headed for his room to take a long, hot shower. Before he could shut the door, Finnick yelled after him, "And when you're done doing that, ask her about Annie, will ya?"

* * *

Shifting from foot to foot, Peeta rapped on Katniss' front door sharply, once, twice. He cringed, wondering if maybe he should have knocked more softly. He wasn't entirely sure she was going to answer. He'd sent her a text earlier, asking if she was going to be at her apartment around 9 p.m. It had taken hours for her to respond—but she might have been at work; he wasn't sure. And even then, her reply was just a simple "Yes." Her texts were never so brief, so terse. Knowing how mad she was was making him sweat as he waited outside her apartment.

When she finally opened the door, his breath caught at the icy glare she fixed him with. She didn't say anything at first, just leaned against the door, watching him. He swallowed the ball of emotions in his throat and held out a container to her. "Uh, hey. So I made you, um, these. They're cheese buns."

Something flickered in her eyes as she stared at his outstretched hand and the peace offering he presented to her. Finally, she sighed and took the container from him and motioned for him to follow her inside. Nervously, he shut the door behind him, and she led him into her bedroom. Madge was sitting on the couch, working on what he assumed was homework, and she greeted him pleasantly, "Hey, Peeta."

He waved sheepishly, but he was too scared to speak until Katniss said anything. Once inside her room, she shut the door and sat down at her desk, quietly unsealing the container to pull out a warm cheese bun. He watched her, shoving his hands in his pockets, but she looked at him expectantly. "Well—talk if you're gonna talk. I'm listening," she said indifferently, taking a bite of the roll in her hand. As she chewed, he saw the delight light up her eyes, the creases that pinched her eyebrows together smoothing themselves out, but it was like she was fighting to keep a straight face, not wanting to let him know how much she enjoyed the cheese bun. He almost smiled. Almost.

He cleared his throat, looking around her room. "Look. I'm sorry. About, well...I guess I should apologize for everything. But I realize now I shouldn't have just left this morning. I wasn't, I wasn't thinking very clearly. I just—I thought you would be mad at me this morning after...last night."

She narrowed her eyes at him, swallowing the food in her mouth slowly. "Why would you think I'd be mad at you, exactly?"

His ears felt hot. "Well, I guess I was acting kind of...stupid about Gale and everything. And..." Fuck, he couldn't look her in the eyes. "I think I might have been, uh...out of line...after the—the fight."

She was quiet for a moment, and he risked a glance at her; she looked genuinely confused. "Out of line, what do you mean?"

He exhaled through his teeth nervously and ran a hand through his curls. "You know, when we...had sex after. I was kind of rough. I, uh, I saw the—bruises I left. I just—I don't think I was myself last night." His face felt like fire.

"Peeta..." He looked at her face again, and she looked absolutely flabbergasted. She blinked. "You weren't rough. I mean, you were, but I asked you to be. Did you think you hurt me? You didn't hurt me."

He faltered, trying to read her face. "I left bruises on your hips. And I kind of—threw you into the desk last night." He dropped her gaze, the flush igniting his entire body. But Katniss laughed suddenly, setting the unfinished roll back into the container.

"I mean, yeah, you kind of did, I guess. But it didn't hurt me," she replied, waving her hand through the air. "And sometimes bruises happen during sex. It's not like you punched me. You just got a little enthusiastic."

"I guess..." he mumbled, embarrassed. Smirking, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

"Peeta...did you like it? Did you like being rough with me?" He gaped at her wordlessly, so she continued, "Because I did. I really liked it. Do you know how turned on I was? You don't have to worry about hurting me. If you hurt me, I'll let you know. But you don't have to be gentle with me. I'm a big girl. And I think you liked it rough, too."

He swallowed, his eyes flitting from her, to the desk, to the bed. "Yeah...I did..."

She smiled then. "Good. But don't leave again like you did this morning. Next time I might not be so forgiving," she needled him harmlessly, picking up her half-eaten cheese bun and finishing the rest of it. "These are fantastic, by the way. Good call on these."

His mouth quirked into a small smile, but he frowned again. "Katniss...I'm sorry about getting so upset...about Gale. This is all so new to me. I'm kind of floundering, I guess."

Her face fell, and she rubbed her greasy fingers together as she stared at them thoughtfully, then she wiped them on her shorts. "I can't change my friendship with Gale for you. I'm sorry it made you uncomfortable, but that's just how he is. That's just how we are together. If I had known he was going to show up, I would have warned you. I hoped I would have warned you, I mean—sometimes I forget not everyone understands how we are." She looked at him imploringly. "You don't have to feel threatened, you know? Gale and I used to date a few years ago, when I was in high school, but that's done now. We just don't work together. But we've been friends longer than that. And that's just the way it is."

He nodded, staring at the floor. "Yeah."

Katniss sighed, playing with the end of her braid. "I'm sorry I got jealous about you and Annie. Sometimes, I get a little hotheaded. And she seems more like your type, anyway, so...I don't know. Thought maybe you were realizing that."

The corner of his mouth curled. "No...I don't even know what my type is. But I'm not into her. Actually..." He laughed lightly. "Finnick likes her. He wanted me to, uh, see if I could get her number from you. For him," he added hastily, and she looked a little surprised.

"Finnick likes Annie?" She mulled it over. "Well...do you think I should give it to him? He's your friend, but she's my friend, and I feel like it's my duty to screen potential dates for her."

"Finn's a good guy. He flirts a lot, but he's a pretty big romantic at heart. When he's into a girl, I mean, he is _really_ into her. He's a serial monogamist, really," Peeta said. "I think he's pretty smitten with her because he's been acting strange all day."

Katniss tapped her finger to her chin as she thought. Then she sighed. "Okay, I'll text it to you. But I'll ask Annie first, to make sure." Peeta nodded in agreement. They were quiet for a moment while she ate another cheese bun. He was working up his nerve to say what he wanted to say next, but she spoke up first, "Peeta...I didn't realize you were so confused about us." His eyes widened. She turned to face him fully. "I thought it was pretty obvious what we were doing."

He licked his lips apprehensively. "And...what is that?"

She shot him an exasperated look. "We're having fun, getting to know each other, having sex. This is called dating, Peeta."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. "But we haven't even gone _on_ a date. Just the two of us."

She shrugged. "Well, I work a lot of nights, and I know we're both busy with schoolwork. I kind of just figured hanging out with each other was enough." He nodded absently. Was this how people dated in college? He guessed he really had no clue. It all seemed so...casual to him. How did anyone ever progress in a relationship? She sighed, noticing his expression. "Peeta. You know I like you."

Did he? She smiled at his doubtful look. "Come on. I told you I did. After our first kiss. Remember?" She rolled her eyes playfully. "I didn't think I'd have to keep saying it. Especially because you haven't even told _me_ that you like me." His eyes widened again. She twisted a ring around her middle finger as she watched him, amusement dancing across her features.

"Oh, I thought..." Shit, he hadn't, had he? Wow. And he just expected her to lay all her feelings out there when he hadn't even done the same. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize," he said, a little bashful. "I mean...I do. Like you." He waited a beat. "A lot."

She smiled wider. "I know," she said boastfully, taking another bite of a cheese bun. He scowled at her, and she laughed, covering her mouth. After she'd swallowed, she added, "You kind of wear your heart on your sleeve, Peeta. And if you've never really done anything with a girl before, I can't imagine you would let me do half the things I do to you if you didn't like me, at least a little." She winked at him, and he flushed slightly.

"Right," he agreed quietly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Then he remembered the other thing he'd wanted to do. "So...we're okay?"

She smiled softly and nodded. "Yeah, we're okay."

He inhaled deeply in relief. "Okay. Because...well..." He stopped to lick his lips and tried again. "I wanted to, uh, that is, only if you want me to...but I was wanting to—to go down on you. Now, I mean." Her eyebrows shot up. "If you want." Shit, he had never asked that so directly before; the blood was rushing in his ears.

Her mouth curled into a grin. "Well, if you're offering—wait. Is this because you want to or because you're trying to apologize?"

He looked at her uncertainly. "Um, both?" She just laughed and shook her head, holding her hands out to him in offering.

"Okay. Well, then, do your thing, Mellark."

* * *

They were dissecting a sheep heart in their anatomy lab when she asked him.

"So, what are we going to do on our date?"

He nearly cut through the left ventricle. Stilling his hands, he looked up at her in confusion. "Huh? What do you—I mean, we never—what?"

Katniss bumped his hip, snapping the band of the latex glove on her wrist. "You wanted to go on a date. So—what are we going to do?"

He frowned pensively. "Uhh, I'm not sure..." He'd never been on a date before. What did people do? Go out to a restaurant and see a movie? That seemed pretty standard. "What do you want to do?"

She wagged a finger at him. "Nuh uh. I'm leaving this one in your hands. But I switched shifts with someone on Saturday, so I'm wide open that day." She leaned closer to whisper in his ear, and his fingers tightened around the scalpel. "And it better be good, Mellark; I expect nothing less from you." He gulped, regarding her apprehensively, but she just flashed him a predatory grin and snatched the scalpel from his hand to finish the incision.

What could they do? Where could he take her? Peeta tried to bounce some ideas off Finnick, but he essentially just shit on every suggestion he had. "So cliché," he sniffed. "And boring. That's what you do before you've slept with someone. You two are way past such a hackneyed first date."

His roommate only succeeded in making him more nervous than before; the pressure was distracting, and he found it hard to concentrate in his classes the rest of the week. Katniss wasn't helpful, either. "I told you—surprise me," she chirped when he asked for suggestions, a hint, something, _anything_.

He was at his wit's end when it finally hit him Friday. A picnic. She liked his food; she liked when he cooked for her—he could make a meal for them, and they could eat on the quad. No, at the arboretum. Definitely, the arboretum.

He had to work the next morning for a few hours, but after his shift at the library, he rushed home to finish preparing the food he hadn't made the night before. When it was almost time to pick Katniss up, he packed all the food into a basket and grabbed a blanket before heading out the door. It was about a 15-minute drive to her apartment; he couldn't believe how nervous he felt as he knocked on her door. She had seen him naked. He had been inside her; he knew what she tasted like. But, somehow, this felt more real than anything they had done yet. What if she thought his date idea was incredibly lame?

His worries dissolved the moment she opened the door and smiled at him. "Hey," she greeted, shutting the door and locking it.

"Hey. You look great—beautiful," he complimented as he took in her outfit. The red skinny jeans hugged her ass just right, and the buttons on her tight denim dress shirt strained over the swells of her breasts. He found himself unconsciously licking his lips.

Katniss slipped her hand into his as they headed down the stairs. "Thanks. Not too casual?" she asked skeptically, and he shook his head. "Okay, good. So, 3 in the afternoon for a date is pretty unconventional. Where are you taking me exactly?"

Peeta shook his head. "You'll see. It's a surprise." She huffed in mock annoyance, but he could read the excitement in her eyes.

When he pulled up to the arboretum a few minutes later, she shot him a curious look. "The arboretum?"

"Uh, yeah. There was a pretty secluded spot I remember passing when we were here before," he said with a nervous tic of a smile, then he climbed out of the car. She followed suit, crossing back to the trunk where he retrieved the basket and the blanket. "I thought we could have a picnic, if you're okay with that."

She eyed the basket, her face going slack with surprise. "A picnic?" Then her face lit up. "Did you make food for us?" He nodded shyly, and her mouth stretched into a pleased grin. "Wow. I was really just expecting dinner at The Cheesecake Factory or something simple like that, but this—this is something else." Was she disappointed? He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, but she moved to his side and pushed up on her toes to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Thank you, Peeta. This is lovely."

Smiling in relief, he closed his trunk and led her to the arboretum. They walked through the gardens until he found the spot he remembered from before, and he laid out the blanket for them to sit on. Folding her legs under her, Katniss eagerly watched him unpack the food. "So, what did you make us?" she asked, unable to contain her enthusiasm.

Smiling, he described each container he pulled out. "We've got ham and avocado sandwiches on ficelle, potato salad, strawberry hand pies and," he set a lidded carafe down on the blanket, "some freshly squeezed lemonade."

Her eyes were wide, the sunlight turning them into pools of silver. "Wow. You really outdid yourself."

"Well," he started, dropping her gaze while he pulled out plates and plastic cups. "I just...wanted it to be special."

She didn't say anything at first, so he risked a glance at her. The soft look on her face tugged dangerously at his heart. "It is," she said, smiling fondly at him. He blushed, a silly grin pulling at his mouth. After a brief, quiet interlude, she rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Okay, I'm famished. Let's eat!"

He chuckled, barely managing to make her a plate before she snatched it out of his hands to devour. As they chatted, she would pause to moan her approval every time she tasted something new, unadulterated bliss washing over her features. The sounds made his groin ache, and he had to shovel his own food down his throat, fighting the urge to pin her down to the blanket and ravish her. There was something strangely erotic about the way she appreciated his food; he didn't understand his arousal, really.

After they finished eating, Peeta put away the food and the dishes and stretched his legs out. Katniss lay down across the blanket to rest her head in his lap. Hesitating briefly, he reached a hand out to run through the loose, silky locks of her hair. Sighing, she closed her eyes for a moment before peering up at him and smiling. "This is nice," she mused, folding her hands over her stomach. He nodded, knitting his fingers through her hair to massage her scalp. She moaned, catching her bottom lip between her teeth, and he felt the familiar stirring in his cock again. Damn. His eyes traveled down the olive expanse of her neck to the tantalizing V of cleavage her shirt revealed. He so badly wanted to pop the first button, relieve the tension of the taut denim fabric, and slip his hand underneath to cup her breast. What was wrong with him? He could make anything with her sexual.

She blinked suddenly and looked up at him, mystified. Then she grinned. "So, what am I doing right now to turn you on, exactly?" she asked, laughter in her voice, and his face flushed. Shit. He tried to shift discreetly, but he couldn't exactly adjust his erection with her head on his lap.

"Uh, sorry," he mumbled. "It's nothing, really...just—you're really sexy." Her grin dropped into a lopsided smirk, and she turned her head to nuzzle her nose into his shirt, nipping at his stomach with her teeth. He flinched away, a reflexive laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Well, I can't really do anything about that, I'm afraid," she said, sniffing arrogantly, and he just smiled as he combed her hair out over his thigh. With another sigh, she closed her eyes again and fell silent. His own eyes began to droop, and after a couple minutes, he stretched out on his back, careful not to disturb her. There was a slight chill in the air, now that the sun was starting to set, but a delicious warmth coursed through his veins, radiating out from where her head rested. It soon lulled him to sleep.

A soft melody brought him back to consciousness, but it was so delicate, so hushed, he wasn't sure he wasn't imagining it at first. Then he felt the faintest of touches on his forehead, and his eyes flickered open to find Katniss' face hovering inches from his, her fingers twisting through the curls on his forehead. She smiled when she saw his eyes open, the tune she was humming catching in her throat. His stomached swooped; she had been singing, just barely. "You fell asleep," she whispered, her finger tugging ever so gently at one curl.

"Sorry," he muttered, fighting to keep his eyes open. Her touch was hypnotic. "Got too comfortable." She just shook her head, releasing his hair to smooth her fingers over his brow. His eyes closed again, anyway, and his heart nearly stopped when she resumed humming. It wasn't a tune he recognized, but the dulcet tones of her voice made his skin flutter with energy. He felt alive.

If he could freeze any one moment with her and wrap himself in it forever, he knew this would be it; this would be the one.

"Don't fall asleep on me again," she murmured in his ear a moment later, making his eyes pop open. "Because I really want to get you back to my place so I can do some wicked things to your body."

Damn. He sat up abruptly, scrambling to his feet. "Let's, uh, let's go then," he said earnestly. She just laughed, allowing him to pull her off the blanket.

* * *

They were barely inside her room before she pushed him up against the door, slanting her hot mouth over his. He tried to set the basket on her desk without dropping it and without breaking the rhythm of their kiss. Once his hand was free, he tangled it in her hair again, the other resting on her hip to pull her closer. Katniss hummed around his tongue, her hands traveling over the planes and peaks of his shoulders and chest before slipping between them to rub his cock through his jeans.

"Am I still turning you on?" she breathed against his mouth, squeezing him through the material of his pants, and he groaned.

"Yes," he said on an exhale, moving his hands to fumble loose the buttons on her shirt, like he'd been wanting to do all afternoon. She paused in her movements to let him part her shirt and knead her breasts through her bra, but after a moment she gave herself a little shake and quickly unfastened his jeans, sliding the zipper down and reaching under the waistband to work his boxer-briefs down his hips. She pulled his hardening cock out and stroked him until he was throbbing and pulsing in her palm. Peeta undid his mouth from hers to release a shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Katniss licked the underside of his top lip, but then she slid down his body, dropping to her knees. He watched her, wide-eyed, as she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and flicked the head to swirl his precum on her tongue.

Moaning, he lost himself for a second before shaking his head. "Do you—should I move to the bed?" he asked, but she just grinned up at him, pumping his cock a few times with her fist.

"No, I wanna suck you off, just like this," she whispered, and desire liquefied hot in the pit of his stomach. "I've been thinking about wrapping my lips around your cock all afternoon." She coiled her tongue around his tip, and he groaned, his head falling back as her mouth ensconced the rest of his cock until her lips hit her fingers. She worked the length of him, her tongue bathing his flesh with her spit. When she started to suck, his knees went weak, and he flattened his palm against the wall to balance himself. His other hand gripped the back of her head, guiding her face toward his hips as he thrust slightly.

"Shit, that feels good," he gasped, hissing through his teeth when she tugged on his balls. Katniss hummed around his cock, the vibrations of her mouth caressing his flesh. Pleasure rocked through him, and he inadvertently jerked on a chunk of her hair; she just moaned, sucking on him harder, her fist moving faster on his cock. He forced his eyes open to watch her. The sight of her on her knees before him, his cock disappearing between her lips as she peered up at him through her eyelashes, the wet sounds her mouth made as she slid him in and out—fuck, it was so hot, he knew he was going to explode any second. "God, Katniss, I'm gonna come," he panted, and when she pulled on his balls again, he grunted, jerking her face down on his cock as he spilled himself in her mouth. Her fist kept him from thrusting too far, and she swallowed each spurt of semen that hit the back of her throat.

Once his cock stopped thrumming around her tongue, she slid him out of her mouth and licked her lips before standing up. He was breathing heavily, his body slumped against the door, the world coming back into focus again when her face appeared in front of his. Smiling, she grabbed his arms and steered him toward her bed where she sat him down on the edge. He caught her by her elbows before she could pull away, bringing her toward him for a kiss. Her lips melded to his, the salt of him still present in the taste of her saliva as he probed her mouth with his tongue. Her hands grappled with pulling his jeans and his underwear down his legs as they kissed, but then she broke away with a gasp, pushing his pants down to his ankles where they hit his shoes.

"Take your clothes off," she demanded, standing up straight to shrug off her shirt. Peeta moved in a haze, his body satiated but his mind flurrying with each new inch of skin she revealed. He yanked his shirt off over his head and watched her wiggle out of her pants as he toed off his Converses and kicked off his jeans and boxer-briefs. He positioned himself on her bed so that his head rested on her pillow, and he observed her with a sense of awe as she removed her bra and panties. He found her body insanely beautiful, but it was more than just the physical attraction, the way her form stirred heat in his groin—he wanted to trace the lines of her body, first with his hands, then on paper with his pencil, as he worshiped her body the way an artist would, _should_.

Dazed, he blinked then, brought back to the present when she climbed onto the bed before him. She kneeled between his legs but stopped near his shins, her hands trailing up and down his calves. "You probably need a few more minutes to recover, huh?" she asked as if she already knew the answer.

He smiled crookedly. "Uh, yeah, just a few..." Her fingers danced up his thighs, closer to his groin; he lifted his eyebrows as he watched her hands, but she stopped just shy of where his softened dick draped across his thigh. She smiled and retracted her hands, sitting back on her haunches. His eyes widened when her hands cupped her own breasts.

"Guess I need to give you a little visual stimulation then," she murmured, slowly massaging her breasts. He inhaled deeply, wishing she were closer so he could touch her himself, but this, this was fine. He licked his dry lips as she tweaked her own nipples, her eyes locked on his.

"Yeah...that's good," he said throatily, his fingers twitching on the sheets. She moaned deep in her throat, sucking her lip between her teeth when she pinched her nipples. One hand released her breast and trailed down her flat stomach to the dark curls at the juncture of her thighs, his gaze following the path she set. She parted her legs a little more so her hand could slide between, so he could watch her fingers flutter between her thighs.

Katniss moaned, closing her eyes. "I'm already so wet," she said breathlessly, her wrist flexing as she rubbed her fingers through her folds.

"Oh?" he croaked. "Just from...just from—that?" He was not good at talking dirty; it was hard voicing these thoughts. She shook her head.

"No, from earlier," she corrected, opening her eyes and pinning him with an encouraging look. He swallowed, his eyes darting between her breasts and her thighs, and tried again.

"From...from...sucking my cock?" he asked, nearly choking on the words, and she moaned again, louder this time, pushing her fingers inside her. She nodded finally, pumping her fingers between her thighs before she pulled them out.

"Yes, Peeta. Do you know how horny I get doing that for you?" Well, he did now. She began rubbing slow circles around her clit, her hips starting to rock almost imperceptibly, and he felt the pulses of desire stirring his cock, causing it to stiffen again.

"Katniss," he started, his voice strained. "If you—if you move closer, I can touch you..."

She smiled at him lustfully, her movements stilling, and she leaned forward on her hands to crawl up his body. His hands gripped her thighs when she moved closer. She brought her hand up, the one that had been touching herself, and traced the seam of his mouth with her fingertips. He parted his lips eagerly, snaking his tongue out to curl around her fingers and suck them into his mouth. Her familiar musky taste alone made his cock twitch. Her eyes were dark as she watched his mouth enclose around her fingers, but she smirked when she pulled her hand back.

"I've got something else in mind," she said, reaching across the bed to open the nightstand. She pulled out her bottle of lube and flipped the cap open. Sitting back on her shins, she squeezed a drop onto her fingers and coated them. Then she dropped the bottle beside him and scooted back down to kneel between his legs. He stared at her curiously.

"What are you..." he trailed off as she delicately skimmed her index finger under his cock a few times. He hardened more under her feathery touches, and he closed his eyes when she danced her fingertips across his balls. But when her pointer and middle fingers pressed against the skin under his sack between his legs, his eyes shot open. What was she doing? She quirked an eyebrow.

"Is this okay?" she asked, rubbing the area gently, and his mouth opened and closed a few times without sound. When she pressed a little harder, he moaned in surprise, his hands fisting in the sheets around him.

"Yeah," he choked out, both baffled and aroused. His cock was suddenly very hard and aching. She continued to stroke the sensitive flesh of his perineum. That's what she was doing; she was rubbing his perineum. Did people do this? Was this normal? Why was this not something he knew about?

"Do you want me to go faster or slower?" she asked, her voice hushed, and he didn't know, he didn't know, it just felt so fucking good. He was lost in a world of puzzlement and lust and stimulation.

"I don't—I don't...f-faster, I think," he stammered, his eyes screwed shut, and she complied, her fingers bearing down more quickly, alternating the amount of pressure she applied. Jesus fucking Christ, he wasn't aware he could feel this good without having his dick touched directly. He felt her tongue circle the head of his cock, and he gasped, a wall of white flashing behind his eyelids. Fuck, he couldn't take it; it was too much. The tightening, tingling sensation started again, but it was so much stronger now, and when her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, he flew into a sitting position to jerk her hand away in alarm. "Shit, wait, stop!" he cried, and his cock popped out from between her lips when she sat back. "I just—I think, I think I gotta piss," he mumbled in embarrassment, his face flushing hot.

She laughed unexpectedly, shaking her head, but her eyes were kind. "No, I'm sure you don't; that's just how it feels," she said at his confounded expression. "But I'll stop. I just want you inside me now, anyway."

His heart racing, he settled back down against the pillow and watched her apply a little more lube to his cock. She wiped her hand on the sheets and positioned herself over him, sinking down onto him with one quick roll of her hips. They both groaned—it was so, so much better without the condom now—and she immediately began rocking her hips. He was still a little shaken, but he was content with this; this was well within his comfort zone. Katniss kept her pelvis flush against his as she moved to stimulate her clit, and he grabbed a hold of her legs, watching her breasts bounce with her swaying motions. Her eyes were shut, her mouth open as she sucked in air with her pants. "Peeta, I—I'm already—" But her words caught on a strangled moan, the movement of her hips faltering as she came, bracing her hands against his chest. He groaned as her walls clenched and unclenched around his cock. Damn, that was fast. After she caught her breath, she opened her eyes and looked down at him, leveraging herself on her shins to slide up and down his length as she rode him.

He whimpered, his head sinking into the pillow, and his hips rose to meet hers, slow at first, then faster, until the rhythmic sound of their bodies colliding filled the otherwise quiet room, punctuated by his grunts and her soft gasps. He was surprised by how little time it took for him to come again, not that long after his first orgasm, and he jerked her hips down against his as he spent himself inside her with a loud, drawn-out moan. She kissed him languidly, waiting for him to finish, and then she smiled at him. "You good?" she asked, and he nodded wearily. "Okay, let me clean up."

Sliding him out of her, she climbed off of him; he could already see the semen slipping down her thighs. She disappeared into the bathroom to wipe herself off, and when she returned, she slipped his discarded shirt on and ruffled through the picnic basket. She plopped back down on the bed with a strawberry hand pie and took a hearty bite.

"I'm hungry again," she offered by way of explanation, smiling around her mouthful, and he just nodded, exhausted. She tore off a piece, offering it to him, and he let her feed it to him.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Peeta worked up the nerve to ask the question wringing his mind. "Katniss...what you did, uh...before..." She quirked an eyebrow at him, a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. "Uh...could you—could we, um, maybe try that again?"

She laughed, a pleasing, tinkling sort of sound. "I thought you might like that," she said teasingly, her eyes twinkling. "Peeta, I'll do whatever you want me to do." She sobered almost immediately then, a playful yet apprehensive look in her eyes when she added, "Do you think...would you mind pulling my hair, like you did before, when you fuck me again?" His eyes widened as he stared at her; her request was the most unsure he had ever heard her sound.

She liked pain, he was learning. He still had a lot to learn about her. And about himself. Because he was learning he kind of liked the pain, too. And he liked inflicting it on her. It kind of scared him, but it was also...thrilling.

Swallowing against the nerves in his stomach, he finally nodded. "Yeah...I can do that."

She grinned in unbridled excitement and scarfed down the rest of the pie, licking the sticky strawberry filling off her thumb. But then she sighed, flopping down on her back beside him. He turned his head on the pillow to look at her, and she met his questioning gaze. "It's only, like, 7, though, and we've still got all night to play. I vote for a nap in the meantime."

Relief washed over him, and he chuckled, rolling over to burrow against her side. His body was desperate for a reprieve, at least briefly. "Yes, please, _thank you._"

* * *

_**a/n:** So how far can I push the limits with this, huh? Premature ejaculation, queefing, perineum/prostate stimulation—what next?  
_

_Thanks for reading, and thanks to those who've reviewed so far! I love reading y'alls reactions. ;)  
_


	9. Chapter 9

_**a/n:** Hi all, sorry for the delay in this update! I've been writing stories for other fic exchanges/challenges, so this chapter had to take a momentary backseat. It might still be a couple weeks before the next chapter, though. Thank you so, so much for the reviews so far! This chapter is dedicated to silvercistern and angylini; hopefully, they know which parts they inspired ;)_

* * *

Peeta wasn't sure when he realized it, exactly.

It was probably the moment on her couch in her living room, when they were watching "Anchorman." He was stretched out underneath her, her head resting on his chest. He could feel her stomach rumble with her laughter, and she would occasionally bury her face in his torso with an especially hearty laugh. It made him laugh, too. The movie was funny, but he'd already seen it plenty of times; his attention would slip sometimes, and he'd find himself instead concentrating on the crown of her head, running his fingers through her raven hair and marveling at how it could look nearly black in some lights but a rich chestnut in others.

And her laugh. She had so many different kinds of laughs. Like the breathy one she made in the bedroom, when she felt particularly giddy after he'd just made her come; he really liked that one, but he thought his favorite was the belly laugh, the one that sounded like it hurt because she was laughing so hard, the one that made her snort and always induced another embarrassed bark of laughter. He loved that she wasn't afraid to laugh. She was so expressive, like her emotions didn't scare her. He loved that.

His hand stilled in her hair, his pulse fluttering dangerously as his heart rate spiked. The rush of feelings for her was so sudden, it terrified him. He felt like he was on the precipice of something much bigger than he realized, and he didn't know if he was jumping over the edge alone—or with her. Licking his lips, he inhaled deeply to calm the flurry of emotions and resumed massaging her scalp, hoping to distract himself from the confusing thoughts. Katniss sighed, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

After a moment, she spoke. "You're gonna put me to sleep," she mumbled, and he smiled down at her, playfully tugging on her hair. He only meant to wake her up a little, but when she moaned, he chuckled sheepishly, reminded then just how aroused the action always made her.

"Whoops," he offered, combing his fingers through her hair again, but she looked up at him, her eyes glinting. She flattened her palms on the couch cushion and pushed herself up toward his face. Her lips grazed his, but she just hovered there, her breath warm on his face. Threading his fingers through the hair behind her ear, he tugged her head toward his to close the miniscule distance between their mouths. The movie was completely forgotten then as they kissed heatedly, hungrily. Somehow, she slid farther up his body so she could slant her head in just the right way to slip her tongue deeper into his mouth, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, under his head. His hands traveled the curves of her ribcage and waist down to her hips. Her knees were pinned against his sides, but her short dress had rode up her thighs, and he slipped his hands underneath the loose material to cup her ass.

She moaned, retracting her tongue to lick and nip at his lips. Encouraged, he traced the seams of her panties, from the crease of her hip, over the swell of her ass and underneath to her center, where he could already feel the damp heat of her arousal. Katniss whimpered at just how close his fingers came to touching her, but he only teased her, still just following the seam lines, sensing how frustrated and horny she was getting by the increasing aggressiveness of her kisses.

He was hard, too.

Fisting his shirt in her hands, she unlocked her lips from his with a gasp. "Shit, what are you doing to me? I'm so turned on."

He flushed with so much more want at her words. He made to get up, taking her declaration as a hint to move to her bedroom, but she just held him down. There was that glint in her eyes again. "Where are you going?" she asked playfully, and he frowned.

"Well, I thought you—I mean...the bedroom..."

She just shook her head, kissing him again. "We don't have to move. We can just do it right here," she said, already pushing his shirt up to press her swollen lips to the hot skin of his chest. His eyes widened.

"Uh, in your living room? But—Madge..."

"She'll be at work for a while longer," she insisted, her teeth dragging over his nipple, and he groaned quietly. She slipped her hands between them to undo his button and fly, pushing his pants down some, and he sucked air through his teeth when her palm rubbed him through his boxer-briefs. Abruptly, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees. "Go ahead and get me off, fast. I don't want to have to get up to get the lube."

Blinking, he looked over her shoulder toward the front door, concerned that, despite what she assured, her roommate would walk in at any moment. But he choked back his nerves and slid his right hand between their bodies, fumbling under her dress and dipping into her panties. She gasped, her body jerking slightly when he made contact with her clitoris. He slid it between his index and middle fingers and pinched it to hold it in place while he rubbed his fingers back and forth. She moaned and tipped her head back, rocking her hips in tandem with his ministrations. Peeta eyed the smooth expanse of her neck and, keeping his fingers on her clit, he pushed up on his other elbow and attached his lips to the skin under her jaw. He tongued the flesh over her pulse point, and when he heard the hitch in her breathing, knowing she was close, he stroked her clit faster, pinching it a little harder between his fingers.

She cried out suddenly as she came, gripping his shoulder. She dropping her head in her daze, accidentally smacking his nose with her forehead, and she gasped out a distracted "Sorry!". The pain subsided quickly, and he just nuzzled his face against her cheek through the curtain of her hair, seeking her lips to kiss her again while her orgasm rippled through her. She panted against his mouth, lazily touching her tongue to his whenever it swept against hers, and after a moment, she reached back down to his groin. Releasing him from his underwear, she positioned him between her thighs. Peeta quickly dipped his fingers between her folds to spread her wetness around, making her shudder, and then he nudged the crotch of her panties aside. His eyes darted to the door again, and he prayed silently that Katniss was right, that Madge wasn't coming home anytime soon.

His concerns were forgotten the second she pressed the head of his cock to her center, the heat and wetness engulfing him. She pushed down on him some, pulled back, then pushed back down again, angling her pelvis to sink down on him fully. Peeta grunted, steadying her on top of him by holding her waist. She moved fast and reached over him to balance herself against the arm of the couch, the muscles in her thighs flexing as she pushed herself up and down his cock. Her walls clamped down around him as she thrust down, trying to get him off hastily, and her tiny moans and sighs tickled his ears. He watched her from below, her tongue and teeth worrying her bottom lip, but when her eyes opened and she looked at him, she smiled. His hips surged up into her in a hard thrust, catching her off guard, and she gasped loudly. "Oh, shit, Peeta." He smirked to himself, maintaining his pace and force, and she captured his lips in a wet, clumsy kiss.

"Are you close?" she panted, teasing his tongue out before he could respond. He just groaned in the affirmative and yanked her down on his cock harder. The lacy material of her panties rubbed against the slick flesh of his dick as she rode him, and he wasn't sure if the feeling was adding to the pleasure or just chaffing him, but regardless, every few thrusts, when he pulled out just a little too far, the elastic seam caught on the ridge of his head, making him buck harder against her.

The last time it happened, his balls tightened, and he hissed in ecstasy. "Fuck, I'm coming," he gasped, jerking her thighs down around him, and his hips rolled against hers as his cock pulsed, emptying his semen inside her. She stilled above him, watching his face, fluttering kisses over his mouth and jaw. When his breathing evened out, she kissed him leisurely, her lips curling in a smile against his.

"See? No bed required," she whispered, and he chuckled huskily, but then they both froze when they heard the door knob rattling. It was locked, thank God, so they had only a matter of seconds to situate themselves. Katniss lifted her hips off him to adjust her underwear, grimacing when his come started to seep out, then she quickly helped him tuck himself back into his boxer-briefs and yanked his shirt down. They didn't have time to zip him back up, so she sat back down, spreading her dress out around them just as the door opened.

Peeta's face was inflamed when Madge strolled into the living room. "Hey," she greeted casually, and Katniss raised her head from his chest to look at her.

"Oh, hey, how was work?" she asked, seemingly unfazed, and Peeta tried to keep his eyes trained on the TV, too embarrassed to look at either of them. Could Madge tell they'd just had sex? Surely it smelled like it. Oh, fuck, man.

But Madge seemed oblivious. "It was fine. Got off a little early, at least," she mused with a shrug, staring at the TV. Then she sighed, running her hand over her high ponytail. "I feel gross, though. I'm gonna take a shower." Then she disappeared into her bedroom.

They were silent for a moment until laughter bubbled from Katniss' stomach. He laughed, too, mostly out of mortification. "Oh, my God, that was kind of close. I'm sorry," Katniss giggled, craning her neck up to look at him. "I thought she would be later."

"It's okay," he murmured, his cheeks flushed and aching from his wide grin. "At least, we finished."

She laughed louder, pushing up into a sitting position. "I think a shower sounds like a good idea, though," she said and stood up, helping him to his feet.

He looked at her in surprise. "Shower? You mean—with me?" he clarified. She just winked, pulling him into her bedroom.

* * *

After just a few dates, Finnick was absolutely over the moon about Annie. She was all he talked about. Peeta would have found it annoying if he weren't so happy for his friend. And he was sure he talked about Katniss constantly, too, so he couldn't begrudge Finnick the same excitement of a fledgling romance.

"That place has the best bulgogi, though," Finnick groaned in satisfaction, rubbing his stomach as he flopped across the couch. Peeta had been trying to do his homework when his roommate practically floated in from his date with Annie that night and started jizzing himself about the Korean restaurant he'd taken her to.

"You never take me out anywhere fancy," Peeta griped jokingly, and Finnick just hurled a couch cushion in his direction.

"I just thought you might like to know in case you ever want to take Katniss there. If she even likes Korean food."

Peeta shrugged, closing his textbook. "I just think she likes food, period. She'll eat anything." He didn't even need to see the look in Finnick's eyes to realize how that sounded.

"Is that so?" he asked, crudely wagging his eyebrows, and Peeta threw the cushion back at him.

"Shut up. Do you want me to start cracking jokes about you and Annie having sex?" he threatened. Finnick just folded his hands behind his head, reclining on the couch.

"You couldn't. We haven't had sex yet."

Peeta blinked in disbelief. "You...really?" He and Annie had been on a handful of dates by this point.

"Yep. I've been a perfect gentleman. I really like her, man, and I want to do this right. I wanted to get to know her before we got physical."

Inexplicably, Peeta felt chagrined. Finnick must have noticed the change in his friend's expression because he immediately backtracked. "I mean, there's nothing wrong with that, of course. All relationships are different. And start off differently. I mean, whatever works for you, right? You two like each other. Shit, don't listen to me."

"It's cool. Don't worry about it," Peeta said, hoping he sounded more indifferent than he felt. He stood up from the dining table and snatched his books up. "I'm gonna take a shower. But, hey, I'm really happy for you and Annie. That's great that y'all are getting along so well."

Peeta retreated to his room, rattled. He didn't really know why Finnick's offhanded remark bothered him. He and Katniss were dating. He liked her; she liked him. Physically, things were great. And they were really starting to get to know each other.

But now he worried about where she was emotionally. Because he feared he was so much further ahead of her in that regard. How much did she really like him? Did she care about him? His heart tightened so strangely when he thought about her, whenever he was around her, and the stomach flips at the sight of her now weren't from nervousness and anxiety as they had been in the beginning.

He was absolutely terrified he was falling in love with her, and he had no idea how she felt.

But how do you just bring that up to someone? She wasn't his girlfriend yet. Was she? They'd been dating—sleeping together, whatever—since September, for about two months now. But she had never called him her boyfriend. And how could he be in love with her after only a couple of months?

That was insane. Wasn't it? This was way too fast. He dropped his books on his desk and ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply. Then he collapsed on his back on top of his bed to stare at the ceiling. He'd never felt this way before, never even had the _opportunity _to feel this way before. He thought about Finnick, the few girlfriends he'd had; Finnick was the kind of guy who fell hard and fast. And it seemed to work for him. But Finnick didn't date girls like Katniss.

Katniss was...God, she was everything. She was smart and funny and beautiful, and she was just fun to be around. She challenged him, brought him out of his comfort zone. She made him feel alive, but she made him feel like he was dying, too, like everything inside him was just being ripped apart and twisted up inside him whenever he was around her.

He didn't understand it. What else could it be but love?

Sighing to himself, he pushed himself off his bed and shuffled into the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help clarify things for him. First things first, though, before he even attempted to tackle the whole love thing with her: He needed to ask her to be his girlfriend before anything else.

That pulled him up short as he turned on the water. Holy shit, he was going to ask someone to be his _girlfriend_.

As if he weren't terrified enough.

* * *

They went out for dinner later that week for sushi—her choice. He debated asking her then, but he felt awkward talking about it in such a public place. So he waited until they went back to her apartment after. Katniss had some homework to finish, and he needed to do some reading for his Molecular Basis of Disease class, anyway, so he brought his textbook with him.

She was stretched out on her stomach on her bed, notes and books spread around her at the foot of the bed; he was propped up against the headboard with his book in his lap. But he wasn't really reading it. His eyes kept drifting over to her as she scribbled in her notebook. Her feet were tucked against his hip, and his gaze traced the lines of her bare legs up to the short, rolled up boxers she was wearing. He could see the creases where her ass cheeks started. Damn. Why did she have to be on her period right then? Of course, he knew she'd have to be on it at some point, and she wasn't beyond fooling around when she was menstruating. But she'd said she felt too bloated and crampy to mess around tonight.

Which was fine. Shit, he went 20 years without sex; he could manage a few days without it now. He wasn't a complete horndog. Right?

He rested his hand on her calf, the skin smooth and muscles taut. He began to rub his palm up and down her leg, and she hummed a noncommittal sound, not looking up from her work. But when his hand inched toward her ankle, she stiffened.

"I swear to God, if you touch my foot or try to tickle me, I will kick you in the balls," she threatened, and he grinned, sliding his hand to her heel. She jerked her foot away so fast, twisting onto her back and rearing her leg back to kick him. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and he held his hands up defensively, laughing.

"Okay, I'll stop, I swear!" he chuckled. She narrowed her eyes for good measure but then relaxed, smiling at him.

"Bored already?" she asked, elevating herself up on her elbows as she looked at him.

He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. It was now or never, he guessed. "Well—actually, I wanted to, uh...ask you something," he started nervously, closing his book. She cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay. Shoot."

Peeta licked his lips, suddenly finding it hard to meet her eyes. "Um...So, I guess I was just wondering...Are we, like...I mean, are we...boyfriendandgirlfriend?" He rushed the last part out, his face flushing.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked, but her tone was teasing. He laughed uncomfortably, his eyes flitting to her amused face; she watched him expectantly, but he didn't know if he could repeat it now. He opened the cover of his textbook and thumbed the pages to give his hands something to do.

"You know...are we—is this, you know...official?" Oh, God, he was 20 fucking years old. He shouldn't be this tongue-tied asking a girl out.

She didn't say anything right away, but when he looked at her, her mouth had listed to the side in barely concealed mirth. When she locked eyes with him, she raised an eyebrow again. "Are you _asking _me to be your girlfriend?"

"Er...only if you want, I mean...I just didn't know..." He couldn't drop her gaze this time as she seemed to be contemplating his proposal.

"Hmm...Okay. I'll allow it," she said finally, an air of dramatics to her voice. His eyes widened, and she smiled at him.

"Really?"

She nudged his leg with her knee. "You can call me your girlfriend. You can even put it on Facebook," she teased, and he laughed in disbelief, almost giddily, and rubbed his jaw.

"Okay...uh, wow. Well, I mean—that's cool," he bumbled, and she laughed, sitting up. She leaned forward to peck his lips, but then she grabbed the back of his neck to hold him there, molding her mouth to his for a sweeter kiss.

Letting him go, she lay back down. "I still have to finish this homework, though, so stop pestering me already," she joked, then, winking, she flipped back onto her stomach. Chuckling to himself, he turned his attention back to his textbook and rested his hand on her leg again—but he squeezed her calf and obediently kept his hand from wandering.

Peeta tried to read the words in front of him, but they were just smudges of black ink at this point. He couldn't stop grinning.

He had a girlfriend.

Fuck. Yeah.

* * *

Peeta still had so much to learn about sex. He found himself Googling a lot of stuff; he often got distracted when he should have been doing homework, one link leading to another until he was lost in a black hole of sex instructions. Some of it was horrifying, the rest intriguing, but it was all rather informative.

It was a little embarrassing when Katniss would try something and he had no idea what she was doing. She was completely understanding and patient about it, but he was kind of tired of feeling like an amateur around her. He didn't know if he'd ever be on equal ground with her.

The new thing she did, rubbing his perineum to stimulate his prostate, that was...intense. He really—_really—_enjoyed it, but the first time she had made him come that way had been mostly a disaster.

_Her soft lips encircled his head, her tongue swiping over it before her wet mouth descended down the length of his cock. He groaned, his head falling back on the pillow, and he fisted a handful of her hair just to have something to hold onto. One of her hands gripped the base of his cock tightly, stroking what she couldn't reach with her mouth, but her other hand—her other hand was under his sac, her lubed fingers firmly rubbing the sensitive bulb of tissue. "Fuck, fuck, Katniss," he whined when her tongue flicked the ridge of his head. He was going to come, he was going to come so hard. She released his cock with her hand so she could palm his balls, rubbing them gently. _

_They tightened under her touch, under the insistent ministrations of her fingers on his perineum and her tongue. His hips began thrusting against her face of their own accord, and he grabbed the sides of her head. "Katniss, shit, _shit_, I'm coming," he moaned, thrusting into her mouth forcefully as he exploded._

_But he forgot her hand wasn't there to stop him from pushing too far into her mouth, and she immediately started gagging and choking when his cock hit the back of her throat. Sputtering, she jerked back and covered her mouth as she began to cough violently. He gasped and struggled to sit up, despite the disorienting grip his orgasm had on him. His cock was still throbbing, the last bit of his come spurting onto the sheets. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" he gasped, watching her through the haze of horror and euphoria._

_She shook her head but then nodded, still hacking slightly. Her eyes were watering, and snot was dripping from her nose. She wiped at it, and his eyes widened—no, that wasn't snot. That was his semen. Katniss looked down at her hand in surprise, giving another rattling cough, and then she started laughing._

"_Oh, my God, you made it come out my nose," she marveled hoarsely, and he blanched._

"_I'm so, _so_ sorry, holy shit," he exclaimed, thoroughly mortified, but she just cackled harder._

"_I didn't even know that could happen," she wheezed, coughing again. With a cringe, she wiped her nose and mouth again with the back of her other hand. "Oh, God, let me go clean up." She climbed off the bed and disappeared into his bathroom. He just sat there, listening to the water run, not even sure what to do. Jesus Christ, he nearly choked her with his _dick_. The thought almost made him laugh, but he could hear her blowing her nose and spitting into the sink, and it just made him feel horrible. When she returned, she had a damp washcloth, and she crawled back between his legs to clean the semen off the sheets._

"_I'm sorry," he repeated, distressed, but she just shook her head, chuckling._

"_It's okay. But this is why I don't deep throat: active gag reflex," she explained, wiping away some of the moisture from the corner of her eyes with her fingers. She dropped the cloth on the floor and then gently coaxed him onto his back, lying halfway on top of him. "I just have to keep at least one hand on your dick at all times, I guess," she joked lightly._

_Peeta groaned quietly, rubbing a hand over his eyes, but she pulled his hand away so he would look at her. She was smiling. "Well, did you at least enjoy that?"_

_He scrunched his nose sheepishly. "Yeah, but I still—shit, I feel really bad. I shouldn't have thrust like that..."_

_Shaking her head, Katniss laid her head back down on his chest. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine. It just burned a little." They were quiet for a moment, their heavy breaths filling the silence of his dark room. Then she giggled softly. "It was like a semen Neti Pot." They both erupted in a fit of laughter._

He still blushed whenever he thought about it. At least, she had been cool about it, but he couldn't help but wonder if she ever got tired of him bumbling around in bed like a clueless, virginal idiot. His naiveté had to get old eventually.

What he wanted to figure out now was how to stimulate her G-spot. He knew women had them, but she hadn't mentioned it to him yet or asked him to—_do _anything with it. But if he enjoyed having his prostrate stimulated so much, wouldn't she enjoy something similar? Based on his preliminary research and hearsay, G-spot orgasms were supposed to be pretty fantastic for women. He wondered if Katniss had ever had one—maybe she hadn't, and that was why she'd never mentioned it.

Maybe...he could actually show her something.

* * *

They had an anatomy exam on the human muscular system in the last lab before Thanksgiving, so Katniss came by his place the night before so they could study together.

"This is kind of boring," she said after a while, and he looked up from his notes.

"Oh, I don't know. I find the human body pretty interesting," he mused, turning back to his notes to scribble in his outline.

"Well, exactly. That's the problem," she clarified, twisting in his desk chair to look at him on his bed. "The human body _is_ interesting. But studying it like this...I don't know, it reduces it to just words on a paper." He looked at her expectantly. She smiled then, taking off her reading glasses and shutting her laptop. "But here, we've got the real deal right in front of us. So, why waste it?"

He wasn't sure he followed. "What are you thinking?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, if you're going to study the human body, you should _really _study the human body," she said, and then she stood up and began unbuttoning her plaid flannel shirt. Peeta sat up straighter against his headboard, watching her eagerly. Katniss undressed slowly, until she was only in her underwear. When she removed her bra, he licked his lips.

Climbing onto his bed, she pushed his notes aside and kneeled in front of him. "Now you undress. You can leave your underwear on." She quirked an eyebrow. "For now."

With a small incredulous laugh, he tugged his shirt over his head and dropped it beside the bed, then he pressed up against the headboard so he could lift his hips up and slide his pants off. His growing erection was straining against his boxer-briefs—just the sight of her nearly naked body drove him crazy; he was already fantasizing about pinning her down to the bed and burying himself inside her.

And now he was really hard. Damn.

Smiling, Katniss leaned over him and gently rubbed his bulge. He groaned and tried to lean forward to kiss her, but she held up a hand between their faces, pushing back on his mouth. "Get a hold of yourself, Mellark. We're supposed to be studying," she chastised, but she grinned at his confused pout. She snatched up his discarded pen and then handed him the outline he had been writing on, which had a diagram of the human body on it. He had drawn it himself and had marked all the major muscle groups. "Name a muscle."

Slightly perplexed, he narrowed his eyes at her but glanced at his paper. "Um...deltoid."

She pursed her lips and leaned closer, lifting the end of the pen to delicately trace the muscle in his left shoulder. "Deltoid. Easy. What else you got?"

He was momentarily distracted by her breasts, the dark pebbled nipples just begging for his tongue, but he took a deep breath and forced his eyes back to his outline. "Um...pectoralis major."

Katniss smirked, lightly dragging the pen down his chest to trace his pectoral muscle. "Pectoralis major, here. And underneath," she circled his nipple teasingly, "is the pectoralis minor. Come on, give me something a little more challenging, Peeta."

He shuddered under her touch, glad he was leaning against the headboard. He studied his outline, looking for something a little more difficult. "Okay...sternocleidomastoid."

She narrowed her eyes as she thought, tapping the pen to her lips. Then her eyes lit up. "The sternocleidomastoid, or SCM, extends from the sternum and the clavicle—" she stopped to press a kiss to his collar bone, "up to the temporal bone." And she licked a path along his neck up to the hair line behind his ear. The wet touch of her tongue there sent an electrical pulse down his spine, making his cock twitch, and he moaned, grabbing her bicep to pull her against him.

"Katniss—"

But she resisted him, pushing on his chest to right herself back into a kneeling position. "No funny business, Mellark. This exam is important," she scolded, glaring at him mockingly, and he groaned in frustration. He didn't give a fuck about the exam anymore.

"I don't care—"

She clucked her tongue, cutting him off, and grabbed the outline from him. "Your turn, then." She scanned the diagram. "External oblique."

He shot her a look but reached toward her stomach, smoothing his thumb up over her oblique muscle. "There," he said. But his hand continued beyond its path to her breast, where he brushed her hardened nipple with his fingers. She swatted him away.

"You know damn well there are no muscles in my breasts," she said sternly, and he groaned, the back of his head hitting the headboard. "Too easy, huh? Okay, rectus abdominis."

Peeta sat forward again and grazed his fingers over her abdomen, tracing the muscles underneath. "Rectus abdominis. And also the tendinous inscriptions." Her stomach tensed under his feathery touch, and she had to pull his hand away.

"Brachialis."

He outlined the thin muscle in her upper arm. "Barchialis." But then he kept going. "Bicep. Pronator teres. Brachioradialis. Extensor carpi ulnaris. Abductor pollicis longus. Extensor pollicis longus. Palmaris longus. Flexor carpi ulnaris. And...flexor carpi radialis." His fingers ghosted over her wrist, but she retracted her arm, rolling her eyes.

"Okay, so you know your muscles. I still need to study. Lie on your stomach."

He looked at her incredulously, then at his crotch. "Katniss..." She just watched him, waiting. Grunting in annoyance, he rolled over and tried to shift his weight off his boner. She straddled his waist, her thighs pressed against his sides, and she set the paper down on the mattress next to him to read.

"Let's see..." This time she used her fingers to prod at the muscles of his shoulders and back. "We've got the trapezius and the teres minor, then the teres major. And here, the rhomboid major...and latissimus dorsi, and the...erector spinae." She scooted down his hips, kissing a moist line down the curve of his spine, and he sighed into the back of his hand. When she was sitting on his thighs, her hands slid firmly over his lower back. "And this is the gluteus medius. And of course, the gluteus maximus," she murmured, digging her knuckles into the taut muscles of his ass to massage it. Peeta groaned, burying his face in his pillow.

"Come on, Katniss..." he whined, twisting underneath her so he was on his back again, and he sat up, trying to pull her against his chest. He was so fucking hard. "Can we just..."

But she folded her arms over her breasts, fixing him with an unyielding glare. "Patience, Mellark. We haven't even done the leg muscles yet." She moved off of him, anyway, lying down beside him. "But since you're so eager, you can show me what you know." She flexed her knees, spreading her legs and planting her heels on the mattress.

Finally. He settled between her legs, sliding his hands over her thighs. She watched him through hooded eyes. Fine. If she wanted to be teased, he could do that; he could tease the shit out of her. He gripped her thigh firmly. "Well, this area is the quadriceps. Here is the vastus lateralis. On the outside of it is the rectus femoris. And on the inside is the vastus medialis." His hand trailed the path he created with his words, pushing on her inner thigh to open it farther. "Now, here, this might be my favorite set of muscles: the femoral triangle." He glided the tip of his pointer finger up to the crease in her thigh, then traced it in a long arc down her inner thigh toward her knee. "Here is the longest muscle in the human body, the sartorius." He leaned down to kiss it, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. He traced the muscle with his lips, back to the starting point, very slowly. He could practically feel the energy buzzing beneath her skin. When he finally reached her pelvis again, he looked up at her. "Like I said...it's a very long muscle." She was chewing on her bottom lip, but she didn't say anything, her eyes riveted to his face. Her hands were clenching and unclenching on the bed.

He turned his attention back to her thigh. He dragged his finger down the crease of her leg at her pelvis, following the seam of her panties. "And here is the inguinal ligament." He moved his face closer; he could smell her arousal. The crotch of her underwear was already damp. He stifled his smirk. Good. Nudging her panties aside just slightly, he flicked his tongue out to trace the ligament under her skin. Katniss gasped, unable to stop her hips from jerking off the bed. "Do you like that one? I do, too. But I think my absolute favorites are the adductor muscles—right...here," and he punctuated his point by kissing the inner side of her thigh. "There's the adductor longus," another kiss, his tongue swiping over the flesh, "and then the adductor brevis." And he kissed his way down to that muscle, wetly sucking on her skin. She whimpered above him, her muscles flexing under his mouth. "I like them because they connect to the femur," he murmured between kisses, moving his mouth back toward her center. "And I like the femur because it rotates out of your pelvic bone. And I love that because I can spread your legs wide open when I go down on you."

Peeta buried his nose in her center, nipping at her through her underwear. She gasped, her thighs clamping closed around his head, but he pushed them back open and moved his face away. She groaned in disappointment. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did you want something? I'm trying to study here," he snipped haughtily and chuckled when she glared at him.

"Okay, I get it; you know your muscles," she said pleadingly. "We can stop studying now."

"Oh, well, if we're done studying, I guess we can put our clothes back on," he said, sitting up and making to get off the bed, but she shot up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her.

"I don't think we've thoroughly studied each other's anatomy yet," she breathed, reaching between them to rub his erection.

He raised an eyebrow, fighting the temptation to thrust into her hand. "Well, that's an organ, Everdeen, not a muscle."

She laughed, tugging his body flush against her own so her hips cradled his. "Just shut up and do me already."

Peeta shook his head. "I need to finish what I started first," he said, sliding back between her legs. He pulled her panties off her legs quickly, and she spread them again in anticipation. Resting his hands on her knees, he stared at her, bare before him and glistening with want. He decided now was as good a time as any. "So, uh...have you ever...had a, ah, G-spot orgasm?" he asked hesitantly, suddenly feeling a little flustered.

She looked at him keenly. "G-spot orgasm, huh? Have you been doing some more research?"

He flushed. "Just a little. I just, uh, wanted to try it...with you...if you want. So, have you?"

She bit down on her lip. "Well...it's kind of...hit or miss with me. I don't know, it's kind of hard for me to have one, I guess."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Did that mean she had or hadn't? "Oh. Well...can I try?"

She brushed her hair off her forehead, shrugging. "Okay. Just...don't feel bad if it doesn't happen, okay? I assume you know how?"

He laughed nervously, his right hand sliding down her thigh to rest on her pelvis. "Kinda." He leaned over her to get more comfortable and pressed a kiss to her sternum. Then he kissed over to her breast, flicking his tongue across her nipple before sucking it into his mouth. She sighed, relieved, and threaded her fingers through his hair. Once she started to squirm under his mouth, he moved his hand back between her thighs, gliding his fingers through her wet folds. He circled her clit, pressing his fingers firmly into her flesh, and she gasped as he picked up his speed.

But he stopped before she could come, pushing his fingers inside her and curling them toward the front wall of her vagina. His fingers touched on the spongy tissue there. It felt rougher than he expected. "Is that—it?" he asked, unsure, and she shifted underneath him.

"Um, yeah, just...rub it gently," she breathed, closing her eyes. He obliged, massaging the tissue slowly. He heard her breathing quickened; her thighs were quivering, and her fingers were digging into his scalp. He watched her face as he leisurely suckled her nipple, scraping it with his teeth; her nose was scrunched, her eyes squeezed shut, and her teeth cut into the pink flesh of her bottom lip. He couldn't tell if she was enjoying it or not. That concerned him.

"Um...are you...is this—working?" he asked tentatively.

She nodded her head. "Yes..." But then she gasped and shook her head, reaching down to pull his hand away. "No, wait, no, stop."

Wounded, he blinked at her. "No? It didn't feel good?"

She was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed, and she sat up on her elbows. "I'm sorry, it just—I don't know, it was too much. Sorry, I told you not to feel bad. It just doesn't always work for me. Maybe it has something to do with my cycle..."

That stung. Swallowing thickly, he dropped her gaze and wiped his fingers off on the sheets. "Sorry..." he muttered.

She pulled him closer. "Hey, I don't mean...it's nothing against you, I swear," she murmured against his cheek. "Everybody's different. I don't know...we can try again another time, okay? Maybe when I'm more aroused or something."

He looked at her, horrified. "You're not aroused right now?"

Her eyes widened. "No, of course I am! Just..." She sighed, then kissed the corner of his mouth. "Just kiss me, please?" She forced him to turn his face toward hers, pressing her lips to his mouth, her tongue prodding his lips for entrance. He choked back his injured ego and finally opened his mouth; his kiss was reluctant at first, but then he grew needy, licking his way into her mouth, desperate to prove himself to her.

Katniss pulled him down on top of her, her hands grasping his hair, his ears, his shoulders, wherever she could find purchase. He kissed her roughly, rubbing his groin against hers, tugging on her lips with his teeth, pinching her nipples. She moaned, gasping softly against his mouth, "Peeta, the lube."

He stopped her hand from reaching for the nightstand, tucking it against her side. "No, just wait," he said gruffly, then he slid down her body until his face was between her thighs. She welcomed him eagerly, opening her legs wider, and she stuffed her hands under the pillow beneath her head, already panting toward the ceiling. He waited for her to murmur his name again and then he dove right in, licking a generous trail between her folds before sucking her clit into his mouth.

And he sucked hard.

He was angry, he realized. Mostly embarrassed, but also angry. He didn't really understand why he felt this way—just that he felt like he had failed. And that fucking _sucked_.

He tried to push the thought away, to channel it into pleasing her now. His palms kept her thighs pinned open, his tongue darting inside her and over her slit before twirling around her clit, his teeth nibbling at the swollen nub periodically when he'd suck it between his lips. When she started thrashing underneath him, her hands clawing the sheets off the bed, he abandoned all pretenses and just focused on her clit, sucking on it greedily until she cried out, his name lost in the mantra of shuddering moans she issued.

He sat up, wiping the excess moisture from his chin and nose. She was still a trembling heap of flesh and bones, her hands shielding her face as she gasped for air, so he climbed off the bed to remove his underwear. Feeling the mattress shift, she peeked at him and watched as he disrobed, his cock springing free.

Understanding what was coming next, Katniss managed to pull herself into a sitting position and grabbed for the lube. As she poured some into her hand, Peeta kneeled before her, inhaling sharply when she slathered the cool liquid up and down his cock. She started to lay back down, but he grabbed her arm. "Turn over."

She complied eagerly, scrambling onto her hands and knees, but he urged her to grasp the headboard instead, pulling her hips toward him so her pelvis was angled back. Holding his cock in his hand, he positioned himself between her thighs and then he thrust in, hard, before she had time to prepare for it. She squeaked, but the sound melted into a moan when he did it again, and she dropped her head, her arms taut before her as she braced her weight against the headboard.

He moved fast, keeping his thrusts shallow but forceful, and he grunted every time his pelvis connected with her ass. The sound of his balls smacking against her flesh was echoed by the thumping of the headboard hitting the wall; Peeta was dimly aware of how loud they were being, but for once he did not give a fuck. All he cared about was fucking her and making her scream when she came.

The tiny mewling sounds she was making made his blood run hot, and he wrapped his hand around a chunk of her hair, yanking her head back. She shrieked slightly, letting go of the headboard as he pulled her back flush against his chest; his hips continued to pump against hers rhythmically. He would have been concerned about hurting her if he didn't know how much she liked having her hair pulled. "Peeta," she moaned, one hand clutching at his on her waist, the other fisting in his hair. She was so fucking wet; he could feel her walls slickening around his cock even more, the wetness seeping down his length.

The angle wasn't a good one, though; he kept slipping out of her, and after the third time, he pushed her back toward the headboard. "Bend over," he directed, his voice tight, sliding his cock back into her once she was kneeling again. He hunched over her then, snaking a hand around between the front of her thighs to find her clit. Once his fingers lighted upon it, she started keening, and he pumped into her faster, feeling his climax approaching.

Katniss came first, knocking the headboard against the wall as her limbs locked up, and she wailed breathlessly; her walls milked his own orgasm out of him, and he groaned loudly, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled his semen inside her. After a tense moment, the air sticky with sweat and heat and the smell of their bodies, she released the headboard and collapsed to the bed, curling around the pillows. He slumped down with her, his cock sliding out of her; he spooned her awkwardly as she was still on her stomach, and they were kind of cramped against the headboard.

She started laughing then, the giddy kind of laugh she sometimes did after sex, and she twisted around in his arms to look at him. Her face was flushed a lovely pink, her eyes like quicksilver. She smiled at him, still breathing heavily, and then she kissed him, a languid, pleased sort of kiss, but he had to pull away to breathe; his heart still hadn't returned to normal. "That was really fun," she murmured, her eyes still shining, and he just buried his face against her neck.

That _was _fun. His shame from earlier was momentarily forgotten in the blissful after. "Did you enjoy that?" she asked, and he nodded.

_I love you._

He blinked rapidly, reeling from the unexpected thought. He shook his head but nodded again more quickly, not wanting her to think he disagreed. "Uh, yeah, yeah I did..."

She giggled breathily again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. "Me, too. I love when you pull my hair like that."

_I love _you_._

God damn it. That fucking thought again. He could feel the words rising in his throat like bile, and he tried to choke them back, pressing his face against her neck harder. It was just the sex; he was just feeling good from the sex, and if he started blubbering about being in love with her right then, he just knew he would freak her out.

_I love you I love you I love I—oh, fuck me._

Peeta sat up abruptly, but he didn't want to startle her, so he schooled his face into something less crazed and moved more casually. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom—ah, be right back," he said nonchalantly and feeling anything but. Katniss just nodded, stretching her arms over her head leisurely. He took a second to admire her body in her post-coital bliss but then he darted—no, _casually_ strolled into the bathroom, _casually_, cool as a cucumber, man. He quietly shut the door behind him and flipped the light on, cringing at how haphazard his hair looked. Running the water on warm, he rinsed off his cock and pubic hair and patted it dry, then he turned the faucet to cold, splashing his face in hopes of cooling his heated skin.

He let the water run for another minute, staring at his reflection. He didn't know what to do with these thoughts; he didn't know how to act around her now, feeling like any second he could just burst out with some insipid declaration of love, and then what? What would she say? Did she feel the same? He was scared to find out, scared the answer would be no, scared of just how much he could feel for another human being without the security of knowing if she felt the same.

And if she didn't? Then what? If he accidentally told her he loved her and she didn't reciprocate, that would be the end if it, wouldn't it? Surely, she'd take off running. Two months and someone's already confessing their love—it was too soon, it was definitely too soon, right?

He stared at his reflection a moment longer, seeing the terror in his own eyes.

He was so, so fucked.

* * *

_Only two more chapters left! Also, I changed my tumblr to **fuckingplebe** (from atetheredmind), just FYI._


	10. Chapter 10

_Dedicating this chapter to nmoreblack for...reasons._

* * *

Peeta was not looking forward to going home for Thanksgiving break. Family get-togethers at his parents' house were always rife with tension, and it was pretty much a guarantee that someone stormed out angry and upset—usually him or his mother. If he felt like he could get out of going home at all without having to then endure some kind of guilt trip from his mother or his father, he might have seriously considered staying at his apartment for Thanksgiving. But he didn't really want to be by himself during the holiday, and sometimes even a miserable dinner with his family was better than a dinner alone.

He was going to miss Katniss, too, even if it was just for a few days. She had become such a constant presence in his life these days—most mornings he woke up beside her. Just the prospect of seeing her face made getting up every day worth it. Which was getting a little harder to do these days with the semester winding down and the stress of his workload and his impending finals amping up. But it didn't seem like anything bothered Katniss; if it did, she was really good at hiding it. He drew strength from her steadiness. And it helped that she was willing to do homework and study with him. When they weren't touching and pleasuring each other, that was.

Five days without her? It sounded like torture.

He didn't know when he'd become so dependent on her. He honestly wasn't sure he liked this side of himself, being so needy and clingy. He didn't feel like himself some days—but he'd never had a girlfriend before to know whether this was normal behavior for him.

How was he going to survive winter break, when they would be separated for weeks?

Shit. He didn't need to think so far ahead. He was going to drive himself crazy. His head was already a mess as it was, trying to sort out his feelings for her, trying to gauge if she felt the same as he did.

At least, he hadn't managed to unintentionally blurt out an admission of love. Yet, anyway. He found the words bubbling in his throat often, threatening to slip from his tongue, and usually when they were having sex. So, he had to find other ways to occupy his mouth to stifle those declarations.

"Peeta!"

Which he was currently doing with his face buried between her thighs. Her legs were quivering as he pinned them open, his thumb deftly stroking her clit as he thrust his tongue through her folds, lapping at her walls, trying to reach as far inside her as he could. She tasted tangier tonight, somehow, and he wanted more; this was the third time he'd gone down on her in the course of a couple hours, though, admittedly, his enthusiasm was also an attempt to distract himself.

Katniss wasn't complaining, anyway. Her fingers were scraping at his scalp, flexing and pulling on his hair as she spurred him on, and her hips rocked against his face steadily. She was breathing so erratically, so heavily, he was almost concerned she was hyperventilating.

She tensed then, suddenly, her back bowing off the bed. "Oh, Jesus _Christ_, I'm coming," she wailed, her body jerking slightly. He lapped up her wetness as she tightened and shook then deflated, doing his best to clean her up with the flat of his tongue before he lifted his head. Splaying his hands on the mattress outside of her hips, he braced himself over her and cocked an eyebrow.

"You know, it's kind of rude to say another guy's name when you're having sex with someone," he joked, watching the bliss that washed over her face and flushed her cheeks. She cracked her eyes open and laughed throatily, beckoning him to come closer.

"Shut up," she panted, sliding her hands up his arms to his shoulders when he slid up her body. Wrinkling her nose in mock disgust, she used the back of her hand to wipe his mouth and chin off. "Sheesh, you're such a messy eater, Peeta."

He smirked cheekily, grabbing her hand and licking the sticky moisture off her hand with dramatic flicks of his tongue. She chuckled and pulled his face down to hers. "You're so good to me," she whispered, her lips forming the words against his as she spoke, and then she slipped her tongue into his mouth to stroke his sweetly before she pulled away. "That's three times already. I'm almost curious to see how many times I can get you to do that in one night..."

Peeta smoothed the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, tugging her mouth open slightly as he dragged his thumb down her chin and her neck. "Hey, if you want me to keep going..." He grinned when she laughed again and grabbed the sides of his head.

"If I physically thought I was capable of it, I'd take you up on that offer," she teased. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the slackness of her mouth. She flexed her knees around him, and his hard cock nestled against the dark curls between her thighs; he was aching for some relief of his own, and he couldn't still the involuntary thrust of his hips against hers. She noticed, lifting her eyebrows. "Now I wonder what I could do for you to return the favor, hmm?" He shrugged, leaning on his forearms. He'd be perfectly happy to just bury himself inside her right then. "What can I do to make you feel as good?" she asked, but the question sounded rhetorical as she creased her brow in thought, tapping her chin pensively.

Katniss eased him onto his back then, crawling on top of him, but she paused in her quest in order to grab the lube again. He watched as she coated her fingers in a tiny drop and gripped her thighs firmly; he knew what that meant. His cock twitched in anticipation, and he licked his lips. "Katniss..." he murmured as she shimmied down his body to perch on his thighs so that his cock was before her. She smirked at him, barely grazing her pointer finger down a vein under his cock; his stomach tensed, and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. She leaned her head down to just gently kiss the head, tonguing the slit of his cock to taste him.

Peeta groaned in the back of his throat, his eyes closing of their own volition, and he fisted the sheets around him. Her fingers danced lower across his sac and trailed underneath; he was so tight with anticipation, so ready to explode. When her fingers pressed on his perineum, he moaned and jerked against her mouth, the head of his cock pushing past her lips and hitting her teeth. She opened her mouth so he could thrust in a little farther; her tongue swirled around his head, teasing the ridge and the tender skin underneath, and her fingers pressed harder, the arcs of her strokes getting longer.

But when her fingers traveled farther back, he froze, his eyes popping open to look at her. Her eyes were downcast, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she continued to suckle on his head teasingly, to trail her fingers farther, to prod at his—

"Whoa!" he cried suddenly, pushing her face away from his cock as he scrambled to sit up. She sat back on her haunches, her gray eyes wide as she stared at him.

"What?" she asked, alarmed, and he looked at her incredulously.

"What—what were you...what was that?" he asked, unable to voice it exactly, what she had been doing, or about to do. Was she going to stick her finger—no, no, no fucking way.

Her brow creased, her lip curling in confusion. "What do you mean?"

He waved his hand wildly, gesturing toward his crotch. "You were...your hand...I mean, that was—you've never...you've never gone _that_ far before..." His face must have been so red; his ears felt like they were on fire. He hadn't been this embarrassed since...

Well, since he'd tried and failed to give her a G-spot orgasm (he hadn't tried that again). And then before that, too, when he cleared out her sinuses with his come. So, not that long ago, at all.

Realization dawned in Katniss' eyes then, and her mouth pursed in a small, perfect "O." This time, her cheeks turned a little pink. "Oh, I just thought...You like when I do that so much, so I thought you might like if I...you know, stimulated you from the inside," she mumbled, playing with her hair nervously. She crossed an arm over her bare chest self-consciously.

Could his face get any redder? He swallowed thickly, almost too embarrassed to meet her gaze head on—but she was having a hard time looking at him, too. "Uhhhh, I just...I don't...I mean, I've just never...I don't know—I guess I'm little, uh...uncomfortable...with that..."

She was already nodding, tugging on a lock of hair absently. "Yeah, okay, um...I'm sorry. I should have asked first...I wasn't thinking."

Peeta ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts. He felt rattled, and she looked it, too. Shit. He hadn't meant to make her feel bad. He just...he was overwhelmed. Normally, he was okay when she tried to push the boundaries in the bedroom. What did he know, anyway? He just followed her; she'd never led him astray before or taken him somewhere he felt was off-limits. Until now. Shit. Was that _not_ something that was off-limits to her, too? That was a startling thought. Did she not have any limits? And who had she tested these limits with in the past to think they wouldn't be out of bounds?

His throat felt dry all of a sudden, and he tried to swallow against the lump swelling there. That was a dangerous path to go down; he couldn't think about that right now. "Um, it's okay," he muttered, licking his lips. He looked at her then, tried to hold her gaze. "I'm, uh, sorry...I kinda ruined the moment. I didn't mean to, uh, freak out—like that."

Katniss shook her head, flashing him a small smile. "S'not your fault. I guess sometimes you make me forget that you're still so new to all this," she said, grabbing his discarded T-shirt from where it had been flung near the foot of the bed and covering her breasts. He frowned for a couple of reasons—one, that she was covering herself and, two, that her statement sounded vaguely insulting. He wasn't sure how to take it.

But he tried to push the doubts away, to quash the insecurity before it could flare up stronger. He reached out for her, pulling on her arm and gently prying the shirt from her chest. She raised an eyebrow curiously but let him. He leveled his face with hers, plying her lips open with his mouth for a kiss. They were both tentative at first, trying to work past the awkwardness of the situation, but after a moment she dropped the shirt aside and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled against her mouth, her tongue following his as he withdrew it. She shook her head, pressing wet kisses to his lips.

"Don't apologize," she breathed, sliding into his lap to straddle him better. His cock had gone a little flaccid in his embarrassment, but it was starting to harden again, nestled between her pelvis and his stomach. "Do you still want to have sex, maybe? Because I do..."

He nodded, licking along the underside of her top lip. It was their last night before break. He wasn't going to see her for a few days. He needed to be inside her, to take that with him when he went back home so he had memories to distract himself from the tedium and anxiety of being around his family. She smiled when he rolled them over, settling between her legs. Peeta grabbed the lube and sat up so he could rub some on his cock, stroking it to its full hardness, then he slid his slippery fingers between her folds to make sure she was ready, too. She hissed, twisting underneath him at his touch and bending her knees into a wider stance for him. She grabbed his arms and urged his face back toward hers as he pushed into her, muffling her moan against his lips.

Once she had adjusted to the intrusion, he shifted his weight off her some and slipped his arm under her right knee, drawing it up to her chest. Her eyes drifted closed, and her head fell back to the pillow as he began to move, shallowly at first then deeper, harder. "Is this okay?" he asked of the angle, and she just nodded, her mouth falling open to release her quiet moans and pants.

He was slightly elevated on his knees and hands, so he could watch her writhe below him; her breasts jiggled whenever his hips surged against hers. She brought a hand up to massage one, her fingers rolling and pinching her pebbled nipple. He grunted at the sight. Fuck, that was hot. He quickly lowered his mouth to her breast and sucked the nipple into his mouth, worrying it eagerly with his teeth. She gasped in delight. "Shit, Peeta, that feels good," she mewled, bucking her hips to meet his thrusts more enthusiastically. Her moans and words spurred him on, and he thrust into her faster. The music their bodies made, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of her, pushing through her folds and against her walls, made him harder and lightheaded. He was close; he released her nipple to gasp and bury his face between her breasts.

"Katniss, I can't—" He couldn't finish his thought, straining his hips against hers as he came. He gasped, his cock pulsing and spurting his semen inside her. He untangled his arm from under her leg, and she wrapped them around his waist, cradling his head to her chest as he panted and trembled. Her hands combed through his hair, tenderly smoothing over his forehead and down his jaw.

Fuck, he was going to miss the hell out of her the next five days.

* * *

The one good thing about being home was that he had to work in his parents' bakery. Business picked up for the holidays, and his father liked to give his regular employees the time off. Which meant he and Rye were pretty much there open to close except on Thanksgiving Day. He loved baking, so he enjoyed making the breads and pastries and other treats. Peeta hated working the front, though, but luckily Rye hated baking just as equally, so they had an unspoken agreement: Rye dealt with the customers and the transactions while Peeta manned the ovens. It worked out well.

So, at least he had work to occupy his time while he was away from school—and away from Katniss. When he wasn't working, he went for runs around his old neighborhood and on the familiar trails he had mapped out many times growing up there. It helped clear his head and gave him an out when his mother started to aggravate him or when his parents' arguments became too loud to block out with music and drawing.

He still thought about Katniss, constantly, of course, particularly their last morning together. Peeta had woken up early to go for a run; she had actually joined him, swinging by her place to grab running gear first. Then they ran around campus for an hour. He was impressed by her stamina; she had a shorter stride than he did, so she had to run faster to keep pace with him. He felt bad because she clearly wasn't used to the speed, and he offered to slow down, but she wouldn't let him. She was stubborn and refused to admit defeat; she'd nearly collapsed by the time they got back to his apartment.

"You're gonna be so sore later," he'd said regretfully, trying to help her stretch out her legs in his room, and she'd just leered at him, retorting that she already _was_ sore. Then they'd stripped each other's sweaty clothes off and had gross, uncomfortably damp but still intensely erotic sex on the floor before moving to the shower to clean up. She had to leave after that, since she had a four-hour drive ahead of her. He took his own time heading back home, though, dragging his feet as he packed; it was only a half-hour drive for him, and he wasn't looking forward to the third degree he was going to get from his mother for any number of things—being late, not coming home on his fall break, not keeping in touch or calling more often, or whatever else was bothering her that day, really.

When she started him on him, he just drowned her out by replaying those moments with Katniss in his head. Which wasn't always the smartest idea because then he had to actively hide the boner he was suddenly sporting or find a way to throw his mother off his trail so he could steal a few minutes' peace in the bathroom to relieve himself.

He felt like he was in high school all over again, which would have been a more depressing thought if he wasn't able to comfort himself with the fact that at least now he was actually having sex with a hot girl instead of just fantasizing about it.

Peeta was currently helping set the table with Rye for Thanksgiving dinner. His parents were finishing up the side dishes and carving the turkey. They took their seats at the table when their mother brought out the green bean casserole and told them to stop hovering. Their father presented the turkey a moment later, setting the platter in the middle of the table. They all dug in pretty much immediately; Peeta was glad they stopped bothering with the round of "Tell everyone what you're grateful for"—they hadn't done that for a few years now, not since his older brother Barm, after a particularly heated argument with their mother, snapped that he was grateful he was moving out of state and wouldn't be back around for future Thanksgiving dinners.

That had been a really fun evening.

True to his word, Barm hadn't been back since. Not even for Christmas. Peeta knew it was in large part because his brother was gay, and their mother did not approve. Their father didn't either, really, so he hadn't put up too much of a fight about Barm not coming around anymore. Peeta missed his brother, though, and wished he could meet his partner in person. Maybe one of these days he could visit him in Washington, before he started med school.

"So, Peet, when are you gonna tell everyone about your girlfriend?"

He nearly dropped his fork loaded with mashed potatoes and halted it halfway to his mouth, his eyes darting across the table to look at Rye, who was smirking at him. Everyone else went silent, and Peeta wasn't sure if the blood was draining from his face or blooming hotly in his cheeks.

"What?" his mother barked first.

"Peeta, you have a girlfriend? Why didn't you tell us?" his father exclaimed right after her.

Peeta was almost too stunned to speak, glancing back and forth between his parents. He hadn't exactly wanted to have this conversation with them, truthfully, mainly because he dreaded what his mother would say. She looked particularly vexed right then, and his father was trying to smile through his surprise.

"Umm...it just kind of...happened. I didn't...I dunno," he mumbled, shoveling the mashed potatoes into his mouth to preoccupy his mouth while he figured out what to say. Rye was still grinning, spooning some raisin sauce over his turkey slices.

"I saw it on Facebook. Her name is Katniss. She's pretty cute, too," he teased, and Peeta wanted to reach across the table and stab him with his fork. His brother just smugly chomped on his turkey, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

"Well, that's great, son. I'm sure she's a lovely girl," his father said encouragingly, but his mother was already shaking her head.

"How can you say that when you haven't even met her?" she retorted, her mouth downturned into a scowl. Peeta swallowed his mouthful, chasing it with some water. His stomach was already twisting with nerves; his mother always had something negative to say. "For all we know, she could be some shallow twit."

His mouth tightened, and he clenched his jaw. His father sighed, tapping his knife against his plate. "Narah, Peeta's a good kid. I trust his judgment—"

"She's not shallow, and she's definitely not a twit," Peeta interjected suddenly, staring at the roll on his plate. "She's actually really smart. She's a biology major, too. She's really nice and...she's fun," he finished lamely, suddenly hesitant to reveal any more about her. He did not want to veer the conversation anywhere near his sex life.

Chewing her mouthful of green bean casserole angrily, his mother rolled his eyes, but since her mouth was full, she couldn't comment. Peeta hoped that meant that would be the end of their interrogation about his girlfriend. He still glowered at Rye; that was just like his brother to throw him under the bus, instigate an argument that involved someone else so he could escape dinner unscathed.

"Well, we'd love to meet her someday," his father said, smiling pleasantly at him, and Peeta just ducked his head and nodded. If that ever happened. He'd do his best to prolong it—that was for damn sure.

"I'm not sure I agree with him having a girlfriend, Faren," his mother said suddenly, glaring at her husband. "He's too young. He needs to be focusing on his schoolwork, especially if he has any hopes of getting into med school."

And here we go.

His father sighed, barely containing his disbelief and frustration. "He's 20, for God's sake. This is the age when he should be dating."

"He has plenty of time for that later," she sniffed, jabbing at the stuffing on her plate. "UNC's School of Medicine is notoriously hard to get in to, and it's one of the best in the country. We've spent entirely too much money on his education, and we can't afford some floozy distracting him from studying."

Peeta's whole body stiffened at her words, and this time his neck flushed from anger and embarrassment. He shouldn't respond; he knew it would only make it worse to rise to her bait. But, damn it, she didn't know anything about Katniss or their relationship, and, okay, so maybe he hadn't paid nearly as much attention to his schoolwork since he'd started dating her, and his grades had dropped but only barely and he was still doing well in all his courses.

And this was the first time in his life he felt good, really good, about himself, and he didn't want to let his mother shit all over that, like she always did.

"You don't know Katniss. Don't insult her," he said tightly, staring down at his plate. His mother sighed then, a little dramatically, and he knew what was coming next—she was going to try to sweet talk him, to make it sound like she was just trying to be reasonable and he was the one overreacting; he was the one being defensive, when she was only trying to look out for her son's best interest because she cared.

"Peeta, I'm sure she's _nice_," she started, emphasizing the word "nice" like she believed anything but. "But I know how girls are at her age. And I know that at your age, having a girlfriend might seem like the most important thing in the world. But college girls like her aren't looking for anything serious. And you need to be serious right now. Your future is more important than wasting time with someone who's only looking for one thing. I'm just trying to spare you the inevitable disappointment."

Peeta blinked, stunned to silence by her words. Well, that fucking stung. His father spoke up first, his voice hard.

"Can we discuss this later? Let's just get through dinner. It's Thanksgiving, for God's sake," he muttered, turning his glare from his wife to his food.

His mother just sniffed again, taking a generous sip of her red wine. "Fine. You know I'm right, though. Someone's got to keep his head on straight for him. But that's the last I'll speak of it. For now."

The rest of dinner was awkward, filled with tense, false pleasantries as they all tried to avoid talking about anything of depth or importance. Peeta was eager to get away from them, so he ate the rest of his food quickly, his stomach still churning from his mother's words. She didn't know Katniss. She didn't. Katniss wasn't only dating him for one thing—was she? Sure, they had a lot of sex. And maybe that was how their relationship started. But she was his girlfriend now. She cared about him. Didn't she?

He desperately needed to talk to her, to hear her voice.

Once they were finished eating, he and Rye helped clear the table, but then they retreated upstairs before their parents could start arguing in front of them. Peeta nearly shoved his brother into the wall when they reached the stairs. "Thanks a lot, dickhole," he snapped, but Rye just shrugged.

"Excuse me for showing a little interest in your life," he said simply, then he winked. "She is really cute, though. I didn't know you had it in you, little bro."

Peeta just ignored him, heading for his room, but Rye wouldn't let it go, passing by him to get to his own room, "So, you finally getting laid then? Way to go, man." Peeta just shut the door in his face, hard. He eagerly snatched up his phone from his nightstand but hesitated. He didn't know what time Katniss was eating with her family, and it was still kind of early; he didn't want to bother her in case they were having dinner. He decided to text her instead.

_I miss you._

He flopped down on his bed and turned his TV on while he waited for her to respond. And he waited. And waited. He flipped channels mindlessly, watching movies and TV shows without really watching them, periodically checking his phone to make sure he hadn't missed her text. But he hadn't. It was nearly three hours later, and he still hadn't heard from her yet. What the hell was she doing?

_It's Thanksgiving_, he reminded himself, trying to ease his racing thoughts, to settle the anxious twisting of his stomach. He debated sending another text—he didn't want to seem so demanding and whiny, but he was about to crawl out of his skin. He needed someone to talk to—he needed _her_, damn it. Peeta picked his phone back up and typed out another message; he deleted it multiple times, trying to make sure his tone didn't come off as hostile.

_How is your Thanksgiving going?_ he finally sent, satisfied with how casual he sounded.

And then he waited some more. When he was tired of waiting, he pulled his laptop out and opened it, trying to distract himself. He soon found himself on Facebook, bringing up Katniss' profile. Maybe if he just saw her face, that would help. And it did, somewhat. He smiled slightly when he looked at her profile picture; it had been taken during her hiking trip in Boone with Madge, Annie and Johanna. She was standing on the edge of a cliff on Blue Ridge Parkway, the world seemingly dropping away behind her. Her toothy smile and gray eyes gleamed in the bright sunlight, her cheeks flushed from the exertion of their hike.

God, she was beautiful. He could already feel his cock twitching at the thought of her, of their last morning together, of her spread out and pliable beneath him on the bedroom floor, of—

Fuck, he needed to stop that train of thought. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as he recalled his mother's words from earlier, their argument at the dinner table.

So, now he wasn't aroused anymore, but he was bitter again. With a sigh, he clicked on Katniss' Facebook photos. He'd only looked through some of them before; she had a lot, more than 2,000. His own picture count paled in comparison, but he didn't really care to take pictures of himself or pose for them. He began scrolling through her photos, starting from the most recent. He'd seen most of these already: pictures of her with friends, on vacations, with family and Prim.

But he stiffened the further back in time he went, when he saw more and more photos of her with other guys. And not just in friendly poses—a lot of these were really intimate. There was Gale, of course—Katniss and Gale hugging, Katniss sitting on his lap, on his shoulders in a pool in a _bikini._ He knew they had dated, but she'd indicated that had been years ago, and these photos were within the past couple of years. Peeta gritted his teeth; he didn't think he'd ever get used to just how _chummy_ they were. It made him seethe inside with jealousy, as loathe as he was to admit it.

But it wasn't just Gale. It was many guys. And maybe she was just a touchy-feely kind of person, even with her guy friends, but a few of these guys in her photos popped up with increasing regularity. And the kissing and touching involved was beyond anything platonic, he was sure of it.

There was someone named Cato Harris, a blonde, tall, cocky-looking brute of a guy who had his arms around her in a possessive hold, his hands often placed under her shirt to touch the skin of her waist. Peeta really didn't like this mother fucker, especially that arrogant smirk on his face.

And then there was Marvel Lewis. Peeta knew him. He'd met him a couple of times; he'd thought he was just a friend, but they were kissing in some of these photos, dancing and grinding against each other at parties. He had to flip through those photos fast, lest he hurl his laptop across the room.

But it didn't end there. Tristan Jackson. Noah Garcia. Ryan McMorrow.

Who the fuck were these guys? Had she dated all of them? Had she slept with all of them? Had she been in serious relationships with all of them?

He was shaking, he realized. He hadn't even reached the last of her photos yet, but he physically had to force himself to sign out and close his computer.

All these photos of numerous guys, and none of him. Absolutely none. Zero. That was really fucking comforting.

And she _still_ hadn't responded to his texts yet. What the fuck was going on?

He needed to do something, get out of the house—but it was raining outside, and he didn't feel like changing into his running gear. He looked around wildly, then he slipped out of his bed and dropped to the floor, flattening his palms against the floor. He needed to work out his energy somehow, so he started doing pushups. When he got to 100, he rolled onto his back and did 100 crunches. Then he repeated each exercise until his arms were shaking and his core was aching.

Panting, he finally collapsed on his back and stared at the ceiling. Trying not to think about Katniss and thinking of nothing but.

When he heard the ping of his phone alerting him to a text, he shot up off the floor. Final-fucking-ly! But when he read her response, his stomach dropped, and his mouth curled into a scowl.

_Hey, sorry, I was at a movie with Gale and my phone was charging at home! I miss you too :) Thanksgiving was good. How was yours?_

She had been at a movie with _Gale_. Peeta hadn't realized she would be seeing Gale while she was at home. He wondered what else she hadn't told him.

He thought back to all the photos of her—and all those fucking guys—and he set his phone back on his nightstand without responding. He was too pissed off. He didn't want to say anything he would regret—but mostly, he just wanted to make her wait now, too, like she'd made him wait. It was childish, but he didn't care. All he could think about was what she and Gale had been doing in that dark movie theater all night.

He eventually fell asleep with that thought in his head, but it wasn't until much, much later. Katniss never sent another text that night, either.

* * *

The next few days passed without much incident at his parents' house, thankfully. His mother slipped in the occasional snide remark about him having a girlfriend and neglecting his studies, but he holed himself up in his room, went for a run or focused all of his energy at the bakery so he wouldn't be forced into a grating discussion with her about it. She didn't know Katniss or their relationship, and that was the end of it. And even if he was currently upset with Katniss, he was not going to let his mother badger him about his relationship the way she had Barm.

Peeta had finally responded to Katniss the next day, though he tempered his tone and enthusiasm in his texts. If she noticed his sullenness or the withdrawn nature of his replies, she didn't mention it. Her insensitivity aggravated him, and he was tempted to snap at her via text, but he refrained. He just needed to get away from his parents and back to school; he knew he'd feel better once he'd escaped the toxicity of this house and saw her again.

He left as soon as he could Sunday, after his shift at the bakery, and drove the half hour back to his apartment. He felt better already. Katniss said she wouldn't be back until that night, so he couldn't see her just yet. To pass the time, he played video games and hung out with his roommates when they finally came home. But he couldn't stop watching the clock, biding his time until it was 8 o'clock and he could go over to Katniss' place.

He was still really unsettled about those photos, all those guys...He didn't think it would bother him like this. It hadn't in the past, not really, when he thought about the extent of her experience. But that was a while ago, before they'd gotten serious. He had liked her in the beginning, of course, but the magnitude of his feelings for her then was nothing compared to now.

He was in love with her, and it hurt to think she could have felt that way about anyone but him. He didn't even have the security of knowing if she actually _did_ love him, and he was still too scared to ask.

He thought about talking to Finnick about his concerns, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. Finnick was still so happy about Annie, and Peeta didn't want to taint that for him in any way. So, he just held his tongue, nearly bolting out of his apartment when 8 p.m. finally rolled around.

Peeta knocked eagerly on her door, shifting the small box of confectioneries in his free hand while he waited. It took her a moment to answer, but when she opened the door a moment later, her face lit up at the sight of him. He immediately felt every muscle in his body relax, and he smiled widely, too.

"Hey!" she greeted, waving him inside. He presented the box to her when he crossed the threshold.

"Hey, I, uh, brought you these," he said, and he elaborated when she arched an eyebrow, "They're petits fours glacés."

"_Ooh la la_, sounds fancy," she quipped as she shut the door behind him and took the proffered box. "You sound cute when you speak French. So, what are they exactly?"

"They're basically tiny cakes covered in glaze. We sell them at my parents' bakery. I made this particular batch. I just thought you might like them," he said sheepishly as he watched her open the lid and select one of the bite-sized sweets. Katniss popped one into her mouth and chewed, moaning enthusiastically after she had swallowed.

"These are really, really good, thank you," she gushed, but she set the box down in the kitchen on the counter. "I'll probably eat those all for breakfast tomorrow. That was really sweet of you to bring them." She hugged him then, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing tight against him. "I missed you," she breathed against his ear, and he nuzzled his nose and mouth against her neck, inhaling deeply. Vanilla and ebony.

"I missed you, too." _You have no idea._ There were so many things he was eager to tell her—he could feel the words pressing on his chest—but he pushed them down when she untangled her arms from his neck and grabbed his shoulders, quickly finding his mouth with hers. His body reacted instantaneously to her, coming alive under her touch and her lips, and he kissed her fiercely, biting at her lips, beckoning her tongue into his mouth with his own.

Katniss slowed the kiss, easing her face back from his. She grinned at him. "Wanna show me how much you missed me?" she asked, her voice low and sultry. The sound went straight to his dick, and he nodded earnestly. She quickly pulled him toward her room, shutting the door behind him once she had him inside. She pushed him against the wall, fluttering her lips down his neck. "God, that was a long break..." she murmured against the hollow of his throat, pulling absently on the hem of his shirt and skimming her fingers over his abdomen. "Five days without you...and this," there, she rubbed his cock through his jeans, and he groaned, his head falling back. "It was torturous."

He fought back a frown; he hoped she missed him for more than just sex. He knew their relationship was largely physical, but they had moved beyond that point, hadn't they? He knew he had, at least.

But it was hard to argue her point when his cock was already hard and aching for her, when he'd spent a good portion of each day fantasizing about her and the next time they could have sex again. She was just trying to be flirty and seductive, he reassured himself. Peeta licked his lips, running his hands up and down her back.

"I know," he said, his voice rough. "I spent most of the break thinking about you..."

She pulled back so she could meet his gaze. There was a predatory spark in their gray depths, and the corners of her mouth curled upward. "Did you get hard thinking about me?" He nodded, tugging on her hips so she was pressed harder against his erection, so she could see for herself. The corners of her mouth climbed higher. "And did you jerk off while you were at home thinking about me?"

Blushing slightly at her words, he swallowed and nodded again. "I did...a lot."

Katniss caught her bottom lip between her teeth, making a low noise in the back of her throat. "Me, too," she hummed, pressing lazy kisses along his jawline. "Damn, I knew I should've texted you when I did it. I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable at your parents' house."

He chuckled. "It probably would have been a welcome distraction, honestly."

She stepped back, her eyes still twinkling. "Well, I'll remember that, then," she said, sliding her hand into one of his and leading him to her bed. She stopped when her legs hit the mattress, and she yanked off her shirt, directing him with her eyes to the do the same as she pushed down her sweatpants. His eyes never left her body while he disrobed. When her bra fell away, he sighed wistfully, hurriedly ripping his shoes and pants off so he could start touching her.

But she crawled back on the bed to stretch out before he could, patting the spot next to her invitingly. He lay down beside her, rolling onto his back when she kneeled over him to straddle his waist. His hands immediately cupped her breasts, lifting the weight of them in his palms as she hovered before him. She moaned, her own hands coming up to rest on top of his, encouraging his kneading motions.

"How was your break?" she asked out of nowhere, and he frowned up at her. Her eyes were closed, however, her head tipped back slightly and her lips parted.

"Um...okay, I guess," he muttered, using his thumbs to circle her puckered nipples. His break wasn't okay, of course, but he couldn't exactly start thinking about his mother and her cruel words when he was trying to have sex or else he was going to completely lose his erection. "How was, uh...your break?" he asked, trying to distract himself by pinching and tugging on her nipples. She gasped, already starting to squirm on top of him.

"Good, it was good," she moaned. "Just, you know, family stuff...and we hung out with Gale and his family some, too."

Peeta tensed underneath her at the mention of Gale. If there was anyone he wanted to hear less about than his mother, it was Gale fucking Hawthorne. He inadvertently pinched her nipples a little harder—or maybe it wasn't inadvertent, he wasn't sure—and she squeaked in delight, shifting her hips back so their crotches were aligned and his cock rubbed against her damp middle. She had stopped talking, her breathing coming out as pants, but he found himself unable to think about anything other than her and Gale now. As much as he didn't want to hear about him, he felt like he needed to know more. "Gale, huh?" he asked, a little bitterly.

"Yeah," she breathed after a moment, pulling one of his hands off her breast. "They live down the road; that's how I met him. We grew up together." Lifting his hand to her mouth, she spread kisses across his palm to his fingers, licking and then sucking them into her mouth. The wet pull of her lips and tongue on his fingers made his dick throb more, despite his growing annoyance, and he longed for her to wrap her mouth around it instead. Maybe with his cock in her mouth, she could shut up about Gale already.

"Lucky for you two," he said evenly, but she must have heard something in his voice still because she squinted at him, sliding his index finger out of her mouth. Then she smiled softly, directing his hand back to her breast and guiding his wet fingers over her nipple again.

"Stop that," she chastised, still smiling. "You don't have to be jealous of him. I'm with you, Peeta."

Yeah, until she went back home, and then she was with Gale again.

He couldn't stop the resentful thoughts now, all the doubts and insecurities from his visit back home resurfacing all at once. But her eyes were closed again as she enjoyed his attention to her breasts, missing the dark look that flashed across his face. Moaning quietly, she leaned down to kiss him. Her hands framed his face as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, urgently seeking his. He tried to kiss her back, to block out his thoughts and give in to the pressing demands of his body.

But he couldn't get into it because now he was thinking about his mother, replaying what she had said to him over Thanksgiving dinner. C_ollege girls like her aren't looking for anything serious. And you need to be serious right now._

But he was serious. He was serious about _her_. And he wanted Katniss to be serious about him.

She noticed his less than enthusiastic response after a moment, unsealing her lips from him and looking down at him in concern. "Are you okay? You don't seem into this at all."

"Yeah," he said immediately, then he sighed. "No. I don't know. I don't know what's going on with me."

She frowned, sitting back up. "Well, okay. Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, running a hand through his hair and pulling gently on some of the curls.

Swallowing thickly, he pushed himself into a sitting position and scrubbed a hand down his face. He dug his fingers into his eyes, almost too scared to look at her. He had to say it, didn't he? He just needed to put it all out there. He couldn't keep it inside anymore, letting it fester. It was going to have to come out.

"Katniss..." he started shakily, not entirely sure how to begin. She just watched him, her brow creased slightly. He had to turn his head some and avert his eyes from her breasts. He wasn't sure he could say this looking at her, anyway. "I just...I've been thinking about us...a lot...And I just—I don't know how to say this, I guess, but, well...I think I—I think I'm in, I'm in love with you."

Shit. There it was. It was just out there, hanging in the delicate silence of the room. He could hear her breathing and, he was pretty certain, the thumping of his heart as it throbbed against his ribcage. Oh, God, she wasn't saying anything. She wasn't saying anything.

Katniss finally broke the tenuous quiet between them. "Peeta..._love_?" she scarcely breathed the word, her voice cracking slightly. He couldn't stand it anymore—he glimpsed at her face, and his stomach bottomed out. Her eyes were round with what looked like terror, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for a response; it would have been comical, really, if it wasn't actually fucking gut-wrenching.

Shit shit shit shit. He'd fucked up. He shouldn't have said anything. Why did he say anything? Fuck, he had ruined everything. His throat felt tight, and he couldn't speak, even if he wanted to. He didn't think he could dare say another word until she did.

She finally slid off his lap, settling on the mattress next to him. Still staring at him wide-eyed, she tugged the sheet up to cover her breasts. "You're in love with me?" she repeated quietly, and he drew his knees up to rest his arms on them, still too terrified to look at her. "I didn't know...you felt that strongly about me...I..."

Something in him snapped. "And you don't feel the same," he said flatly, as flatly as he could manage with his heart in his throat.

"Peeta...I...I like you; I really like you...and I care about you, but—don't you think...I mean, it's only been a couple of months...I guess I just feel like it's too...soon...to be at that point. For me, anyway..." she trailed off uncertainly, and he could feel her gaze boring into the side of his head. He thought he felt his heart shatter in that moment; he felt like he was suffocating, like he was drowning, like he was dying inside. She didn't feel the same. She didn't love him.

That was it, wasn't it?

"Right," he croaked, twisting his body so he could slide out of her bed. She reached for him, her fingers grazing his bicep.

"Peeta, wait. I'm sorry, okay?" she said, her voice sounding higher than usual. "I mean...just because I'm not there yet, that doesn't mean I couldn't be there eventually, you know?"

But it didn't matter. All he could hear in his head was that she didn't love him. His mother had been right. Katniss wasn't looking to get serious with him. She'd only wanted him for one thing. Peeta hurriedly snatched up his pants, jerking his legs through them. "Yeah, I get it," he gritted out.

Distraught, she sighed, fidgeting with her braid. "Peeta, don't leave like this. Are you not listening to me? I really like you. It's just—that's too fast for me."

He snorted then, the brash sound escaping before he could stifle it. "Right, falling in love is too fast, but not fucking me. Sleeping with someone, that's not too fast for you at all."

He heard her sharp intake of breath, and he finally met her gaze head-on as he tugged on his shirt. She was stunned, her face frozen in shock before giving way to outrage. "I can't believe you just said that to me," she snapped, tightening the sheets around her.

He couldn't either, actually. He already felt sick to his stomach that he'd spat those words at her. But he couldn't take them back now. He was too angry, too hurt. She didn't love him. What could hurt worse than that? "Really? You mean you expected more from poor, simple me? I mean, I was just a project, wasn't I? Deflower the virgin, turn him into some kind of, of sex toy or something, but don't actually develop any real feelings for him, no, that's too much."

The words just rushed out, his long-harbored thoughts spilling out of his mouth. He didn't even mean to say them, but he couldn't help it; a huge part of him wanted to lash out at her, to make her hurt like he was hurting.

Her nostrils flared in anger, her cheeks flushing. "Are you serious? Is that what you still think of me after all this time? That's not fucking fair, Peeta."

He stuffed his feet into his shoes, scoffing. "No, what's not fair is how you treat me like I'm some stupid virgin freak show. The problem is you're never going to see me as on the same level as you."

Her lip curled in disbelief. "Seriously?" She shook her head, pursing her mouth into a tight line. "No, I think the problem is _you're _never going to see yourself that way. All you can think about is how much more sex I've had than you, isn't it? That's not my fault. Don't put your insecurities on me like that."

"Don't worry, I won't be putting anything on you again," he volleyed back as he stormed toward the door, his voice trembling. Before he turned, he saw her eyebrows shoot up, the anger vanishing from her face almost immediately.

"Peeta, come on," she started meekly, crawling out of her bed while struggling to keep the sheet pulled up, but he was already flinging her bedroom door open. "Peeta! I don't want you to go—"

He didn't hear the rest of her plea, crossing to the front door and slamming it shut behind him. She didn't follow him.

He could barely hold it together driving back to his apartment, his hands shaking from anger, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He didn't want to cry, though, and he didn't want his roommates to ask him what was wrong. So, he sat in his car for a few minutes, taking deep, labored breaths, before he finally made himself get out and trudge upstairs. Finnick and Thresh were watching a movie, and they threw him confused glances when he walked inside, but he just waved them off half-heartedly and disappeared into his room, collapsing on his bed. His phone vibrated in his pants, and he quickly jerked it out, daring to hope it was Katniss.

But it was Finnick. _You okay? Wasn't expecting you back tonight._

Peeta sighed, debating how much to tell him. He might as well be honest. _Katniss and I had a fight. Pretty sure we broke up. I'm fine._ The last part wasn't true, but he was trying to preempt a barrage of questions.

_Holy shit what?! I'm sorry. What the hell happened? Do you want to talk about it?_

His eyes started to sting again, and he had to force down the lump in his throat. _Not right now honestly. Just wanna be alone._

_Ok dude, I understand. I'm here when you want to talk though._

Peeta dropped his phone on his nightstand and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, fighting the tears. Shit. How had this gone to shit so quickly? It was his fault, he knew. But how could he continue on with her with the weight of his confession, his feelings, hanging between them and her not reciprocating? He was always going to feel like he was trying to earn her love if he stayed with her. And he couldn't put himself through that again, not with another woman in his life.

His mother was right. He didn't need to worry about dating right now. He needed to focus on school. He had exams coming up, and he hadn't been devoting nearly as much time to studying as he should have been. If he failed to get into med school, the rest of his future would be completely fucked. He couldn't afford any distractions. And Katniss was a distraction.

It was for the best this way.

Peeta lay on his bed for a while, staring at the ceiling. Around 10 p.m. he finally got a text from Katniss.

_Peeta, I really don't want it to end like this with us. I like you so much. I just need more time. Can't you understand?_

The tears blurred his vision then, and he swiped at them angrily when they slipped down his cheeks. What could he say? He felt like a fool. He felt like he was in over his head. He wasn't cut out for this kind of shit. And the things he'd said to her in his anger...he regretted them now. But they were true, weren't they? She was out of his league. He was never going to feel good enough for her.

He didn't want to break up with her, but he just didn't have any more time to give her.

* * *

Katniss tried calling him a few times in the following days, but he didn't answer. Her last text was a final: _Okay, I get it. We're done._

It killed him. So many times he held his phone in his hands, his thumb poised over the "Call" button, but he just couldn't do it. He was a coward. She was better off without him, anyway. She would find somebody else.

He avoided her in their anatomy class, sitting in the back of the large lecture hall. Luckily, their lab was done, so he didn't have to deal with that awkwardness. And then he had exams to completely submerse himself in, studying and writing papers late into the night. It was a good diversion when he found his mind drifting to thoughts of her, which was often.

It hurt like hell. His heart was broken, but it was his own fault. Changing his relationship status to "single" on Facebook was another punch in the gut, and he thought about defriending her, but he thought that would be a whole new level of dickish on his end. And part of him couldn't bring himself to do it, anyway; part of him didn't want to cut her out of his life completely. But he hid her from his feed so he wouldn't have to be reminded of her every time he logged on—she already occupied his mind enough.

Finnick was a huge help in those weeks before winter break. Peeta only told him the Cliff Notes version of his breakup with Katniss, the wound still too raw. But his friend just listened, offered his commiseration and hugged him, actually hugged him, which he had never done before. So Peeta had laughed miserably, realizing how absolutely wretched he must have looked to warrant such physical affection from another guy, and they'd spent the rest of the night drinking beers and just talking. It had been cathartic. He had never been so grateful to have a friend like Finnick.

Peeta finished his exams, acing all of them. He didn't hang around his apartment long after the semester ended. As horrible as being back home was going to be, he just needed to get away. The library he worked at was closed during the break, so he didn't have anything to occupy his mind in his downtime. At least back home he could spend all day at the bakery, laboring and baking and trying his best not to think about Katniss. His mother had been pretty pleased to hear he'd broken up with her, but Peeta just shut her down every time she tried to harangue him about it until she eventually let it go.

She was happy to be right, like always, and he was just happy to move the hell on with his life.

* * *

_**a/n:** Eep. Sorry? FYI, there's only one more chapter left. BUT—I've been writing drabbles from Katniss' POV to coincide with certain chapters in this story. I've posted two on my tumblr already, and I've got one more planned. But once I've written that one, I'll go ahead and upload those three drabbles to here as well before I post the final chapter, so you don't have to worry if you don't have tumblr._

_You can find me on tumblr as **fuckingplebe. **Feel free to send me hate mail for this chapter there!_


	11. Katniss POV drabble 1

_**a/n:**__ First, thank you so much for the amazing response to the last chapter! I really appreciate your interest in this story, and I'm grateful you guys take the time to review or send me messages!_

_This is the first of the Katniss POV drabbles. It coincides with Chapter 1. There are three more._

* * *

Katniss whipped her phone out of her bag to check the time. Shit, she was going to be late for her anatomy lab. She started to pick up her pace but thought better of it, slowing back down to a leisurely stroll as she trekked between buildings. It was only the first day—she'd probably just miss introductions, nothing wildly important.

She'd stayed behind to talk to Dr. Boggs, the director of the undergraduate research in biology program, when she'd turned in her application. He'd been her professor for her Introduction to Genetics and Molecular Biology course last year, and she knew he thought highly of her—she'd been one of his better and more active students that semester. She just hoped his familiarity with her work ethic and enthusiasm was enough to clench her acceptance into the program.

She was confident it would.

When she finally found the classroom, she heard the TA introducing himself from the hallway and bit back her smile as she crossed the threshold of the doorway and scanned the rows of tables for a vacant seat. Her eyes immediately settled on an empty spot up front—right next to an charmingly attractive blonde who seemed to be doing his level best to not look at her.

She couldn't hide her smirk this time. Perfect.

Dropping her bag on the table, she plopped down beside him. His eyes darted to her, and she flashed him a smile. She noticed the surprise that flashed in the blue depths of his eyes—he had such kind eyes—and he gave her a half-hearted smile before turning his attention back to the instructor.

She wanted him to look at her again.

"Hi," she whispered, drawing his gaze back to her. Her smile widened; he seemed utterly baffled that she was talking to him. She searched her bag for a writing utensil, but she kept her body angled toward his so he'd know she was still talking to him. "I'm Katniss."

"Uh..." His lips parted, and she watched him glance back at the TA nervously before his eyes found hers again. "Peeta."

Peeta. She liked that. "Hi, Peeta. Did I miss anything important?" He shook his head, turning away to accept the stack of syllabi. When he handed them to her, she grinned at him, licking her finger to peel off a piece of paper for herself. She had to twist around to hand them off to the person behind her, but when she sat back down, she caught his eyes lingering on her bare legs. His cheeks were an endearing shade of pink, but he forced himself to look away, back to the front of the room.

She stifled an amused laugh, but something about the way his gaze swept over her in that moment made her shiver. She decided to leave him alone for the rest of the class, turning her attention to the TA as he went over the syllabus. Her eyes flicked over to Peeta's profile periodically, though, intrigued by the intensity of his expression as he jotted down notes, fascinated by his attentiveness to the coursework.

She wondered how he applied that intensity in other aspects of his life. She was eager to find out.

So when the instructor directed them to partner up at the end of the lab, she jumped at the chance, casually turning to him. "So, Peeta. You look pretty smart. Wanna be my partner?"

Judging by the flush that ignited his face, you'd think she'd just asked him to eat her out. She hoped her face didn't betray how hard she was laughing on the inside. "Um, um, sure," he managed to choke out finally.

He was definitely a shy one. Oh, she was going to have so much fun with him. She resisted the urge to touch him just then, to run her hand through the golden curls on his head, and instead preoccupied her hands with her own braid. She tried engaging him in small talk for the remainder of the lab, but it was like he'd never talked to a girl before.

It was cute how much he stumbled over his words. And kind of flattering. Guys liked her, sure, but she couldn't recall ever reducing any of them to a stuttering mess of bursting capillaries before. When she crossed her legs absently, she caught the way his gaze swept over her entire body, from her feet up to her shoulder—it was so blatant, she had to wonder if he was being that brazen or just that oblivious.

But he was clearly so embarrassed at being found out, like he wanted to apologize for ogling her, that she couldn't be too put out about it. In fact, she was impressed by his chagrin; a lot of guys felt like they were entitled to leer at her, like they were doing her a favor.

Katniss rushed to give him her contact information then, hoping he'd get the hint to hit her up on Gchat—and not just to discuss their homework. But he looked so mystified by the slip of paper that contained her phone number and email, she just had to grin.

"See you later, partner," she quipped, winking at him before turning on her heel and breezing out of the classroom. She knew she was going to have to put in a lot of work with this one.

But that was okay. She liked a challenge.


	12. Katniss POV drabble 2

_**a/n:**__ This drabble coincides with Chapter 7._

* * *

Katniss shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the dull ache between her legs and focus on Professor Paylor's lecture.

But, damn, was she sore.

She had to bite down on her pen to fight the smile as she thought about the previous night—and the reason why she was so sore. She and Peeta had been up until 4 a.m. having sex.

For being a virgin previously, he didn't really fuck like one.

Well, okay, aside from that first snafu when he'd finished too soon. But that was normal. Maybe. She wasn't entirely sure. She'd never had sex with a virgin before. All the guys she'd been with already had at least a working knowledge of sex and some previous experience. And she'd dealt with premature ejaculation before, where guys had finished too soon for her liking. That wasn't too unusual in college. They were all eager and horny and overly stimulated—and that was the mistake she'd made with Peeta. She couldn't really blame him for coming too soon.

She shouldn't have laughed, though. Damn.

The good thing was that he'd been more than determined to make up for that first time, with his fingers and his tongue and then his cock. It'd been months since she'd last had sex herself—not since Mark Brutus at the end of last semester before summer break. That had left her sore, too, but the sex had been more like that of the jack hammering variety, and she'd been sore in a different kind of way—and definitely less satisfied. Unfortunately, when she was back home for the summers, there weren't a lot of options when it came to dating prospects. Their town was small, and she knew all the available men her age already—and none of them appealed to her. Gale had been the first and last guy she'd dated from home, and that had been years ago.

Katniss jotted notes down in her notebook from the projector screen, but she was still only half-listening to the instructor. She was already thinking ahead to the next time she could see Peeta again—tonight, hopefully. After work. They hadn't made plans yet, but she had a sneaking suspicion he would be game. She knew having sex again so soon after last night was just going to exacerbate her soreness, but she was eager to see his cock in action again.

He was gifted in that department, that was certain. It took some getting used to, and she'd tried not to let the discomfort show because she'd already laughed in his face; she figured she'd done enough damage to his ego for one night. Most guys probably would have been ecstatic to know their dicks caused pain just from their sheer size, but she knew Peeta was different. He took her personal enjoyment to heart; he was so eager to please her.

And she liked that about him. He was definitely someone special.

She was well aware of that fact. She had been coming to understand this about him already, since the first time she'd talked to him in their lab. But seeing him with Prim...she was sure of it now. She had always been so nervous for Prim to meet the guys she dated—Peeta was the fourth one so far—but Prim's opinion mattered the most to her out of anyone's. If Prim didn't approve, Katniss knew the guy wasn't worth it. And she wanted Peeta to be worth it. She didn't know why, but he was so different from the guys she'd dated before. She didn't know what she would have done if Prim didn't like Peeta, but luckily, Prim did—a lot, apparently; she hadn't gotten along so well with any of Katniss' dates since Gale.

Katniss had never been so attracted to Peeta than she had been in that moment, and she just couldn't wait anymore; she'd never been so eager for her baby sister to leave, but she needed to ravish him. And she had, and now she couldn't wait to do it again.

Noiselessly grabbing her bag, she fished out her phone and discreetly held it in her lap, hurriedly typing a text to Peeta. _I want you. Been thinking about you all morning. Do you wanna come to my place around 11 tonight after I get off work?_

His reply was almost immediate. _Yes, yes, I'll be there._ Then, _I want you too._ She bit her lip, trying not to smile too wide. She could almost picture the blush on his cheeks, the shy glint in his eyes, the ruffle of his curls as he nervously ran his hand through them. Shit, she ached in an entirely different way now; she had to clench her thighs together to abate the feeling.

She sent him back a winking emoticon, hurriedly stuffing her phone back into her bag before she resumed jotting notes down.

Tonight, now that the initial breaking in was done, she and Peeta could work on his stamina.


	13. Katniss POV drabble 3

_**a/n:**__ This drabble coincides with Chapter 7, as well, just a different part than the last one._

* * *

"Okay, I gotta switch to water now, I"m sorry," Katniss laughed, pouring water from a Solo cup into her half of the beer pong cups. Gale scoffed as he filled his with beer.

"Don't wimp out on me now, Everdeen," he challenged, his cheeks flushed from alcohol. His black hair was disheveled from the number of times he'd pulled his devil horns off to run a hand through it. She shot him a look, fighting a smile.

"You might want to consider doing the same, Hawthorne, if you wanna still be able to get it up later for Madge," she taunted, laughing at the incredulous sound he made.

"Now you know I've never had a problem in that area," he retorted, wagging his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes. He looked at Madge then, who was talking with one of her friends. "Okay, maybe I'll switch in the next round."

Katniss just smiled smugly, grabbing the pong balls out of the water cup in the middle of the table. "That's what I thought." She handed one of the balls to Gale and waited for him to take a shot. Her eyes swept around the room until she found who she was looking for. Peeta. He was across the living room standing by the couch and drinking from a red Solo cup. She tried to wink at him, but he turned away like he hadn't seen her, and she frowned.

What was his deal? She knew he was pretty shy and was uncomfortable around people he didn't know, but she had hoped having Finnick there would have put him more at ease. But Finnick was off in another corner of the room, talking and laughing with Johanna and Blight.

She hadn't expected to win so many games of beer pong, so she was kind of tethered to the table until she and Gale lost. And she didn't get to see Gale as much, so she didn't want to just forfeit the game and leave him hanging when he'd driven all this way. Though he had to be dying for some alone time with Madge by this point.

Gale made his shot, so she took hers—and missed. He tutted in mock disapproval, tapping her temple. "Get your head in the game, Everdeen!"

"Sorry!" she said with a laugh, shoving him lightly. Her head was fuzzy, and she felt uncomfortably full from all the liquid she had ingested over the night. When she looked over at Peeta again, he was gone. She frowned to herself as she scanned the room and came up empty. Maybe he'd gone to use the bathroom.

When she looked back at the table, she narrowly managed to block a bounce before the ball could land in her cup. Gale crowed triumphantly.

She would have to find Peeta later and apologize for not spending as much time with him tonight. He'd understand, though, right? Most of her nights were dedicated to him, anyway.

Three games later, and Johanna and Blight finally managed to dethrone the reigning champs. Katniss was relieved. "Oh, thank God," she groaned loudly, laughing when Johanna began thrusting suggestively.

"Suck my dick, bitches!" she yelled, and both she and Gale flipped Johanna off. But Gale gave her a high-five and then hugged her.

"Good game, Catnip. We still owned the night."

"Couldn't have done it without you," she replied, waving Blight off when he tried to get her to drink the last of their cups. "Just reuse it—I'm done drinking for the night." Her buzz was starting to wear off, finally.

Gale quickly located Madge and grabbed her from behind, crushing her angel wings under his arms. She giggled but scolded him for sloshing her drink on the floor. Katniss rolled her eyes with a smile and immediately searched the room for Peeta again. He hadn't made a reappearance, though, since the last time she'd seen him. She was just about to check her bedroom when her friend Izzy called her into the kitchen.

Once she'd finally escaped back into the living room, things were winding down; most everyone had left already or was passing out around her apartment. But still no Peeta. Where the hell was he? He wouldn't have gone home without telling her, would he? No way. And Finnick was still there, so he was around somewhere.

She caught movement on the balcony then, suddenly able to discern Peeta's golden curls flashing in the artificial light that shone through the glass doors. He was laughing...and talking animatedly with Annie.

What the fuck?

She couldn't even recall him being that animated with _her_. Scowling, she cocked her hip and fidgeted absently with her cat ears as she watched them. Had he been out there with Annie this whole time?

She guessed she shouldn't have been surprised. Annie and Peeta were a lot alike—both reserved and quiet by nature, though they opened up more when they were comfortable. Katniss wanted him to feel more comfortable around her friends...just not _that_ comfortable.

She knew Annie well enough to know she would never make any kind of move on Peeta. She and Peeta weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, no, but they were dating. They hadn't discussed anything about exclusivity, but she figured it was implied, especially with someone like Peeta. He was just too damn shy; she had to coax him into even _talking_ to her! He just wasn't that kind of guy to flirt with other girls, she knew that.

So why did this bother her so damn much, seeing him out there with Annie?


	14. Katniss POV drabble 4

_**a/n:**__ This drabble coincides with Chapter 10. This is most likely the last one._

* * *

"Damn it!" Katniss cursed loudly as she tripped over the bed sheets tangled around her legs, but it didn't matter—she heard the front door slam shut at that moment, hard, and she knew she couldn't catch Peeta.

No way in hell was she going to chase him down now, not after what had just happened, after what he'd said to her. She still moved toward her bedroom door and slammed it shut, cursing out loud again. "God damn it!" It felt good. She ripped the sheet from her body and tossed it back on her bed, angrily snatching her sweatpants off the floor to stuff her legs into them. She heard a knock on her door then, a soft one, and then Madge's voice.

"Katniss? Everything okay? I heard a lot of doors slamming..."

"Hold on!" she spat, more at Peeta than Madge, and she hastily yanked her shirt on, not bothering with her bra. Then she crossed to the door and flung it open again. Madge took a step back, arching an eyebrow in concern.

"What's wrong?"

Katniss was still worked up, her blood running hot. "Fucking Peeta!" she snarled, trying to get her jumbled thoughts in order. She was rattled. "He just—stormed out of here while we were fighting."

"Why? I mean, what were you guys fighting about?" Madge asked carefully.

"I don't know! I mean, I do, I just...I don't even understand why he's so damn mad," she sighed, tugging on her braid anxiously. Then she looked Madge in the eye. "He told me he was in love with me."

Madge's eyes widened. "Oh, wow...that's intense. And you...?"

Katniss rubbed her eyes. "I'm not. I mean, that sounds bad. I was just—caught off guard when he told me. And I really like him, Madge, but you know me...I just don't operate like that, not that fast. But I could, though, with time; I really think I could. But he just didn't understand that. And then he..." She recalled his words, flushing with rage all over again. "God, do you know what he said to me?" Madge just looked at her expectantly. "He told me I sleep with guys too fast! Like, he basically thinks I'm a slut!"

Madge's eyebrows shot up, and her mouth parted in disbelief. "_What_? Seriously? That's fucked up. I can't believe he said that! I mean, that doesn't sound like Peeta at all."

"Right?!" Katniss exclaimed, exasperated, then she flopped down on the couch and huffed. "I'm so fucking pissed. He drops this huge bombshell on me and when I don't react accordingly, he shames me for having sex and then storms off, like _I'm_ the bad guy! Argh!"

Madge frowned and walked over to her, leaning down to hug her. "I'm sorry. I'm still just stunned he said that to you." Katniss did not accept affection easily when she was pissed off—in fact, it generally made her more aggravated—but she let Madge hug her, anyway. She knew her friend was just trying to help. "So, what are you going to do?"

When Madge pulled away, Katniss sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't know. I feel like he owes me an apology, but...I don;t even know if he's going to talk to me again."

Had they broken up? The way he'd left, what he'd said last, had sounded so final. But people couldn't just break up like that, right? You had to at least articulate that it was over, that you didn't want to be with someone anymore.

The thought pulled her up short, that Peeta might actually not want to be with her anymore. That couldn't be the case. How could he change everything so quickly, tell her he loved her in one breath then dump her in the next? It didn't make any sense. He was just hurt and angry.

But, damn it, so was she. He had been unusually cruel and spiteful in the things he'd said to her. Maybe she should let him go; if he couldn't respect her enough to understand that her past sexual experiences were just that, _past_, that he had no right to judge her for how much sex she did or didn't have, then he wasn't the kind of guy she'd thought he was.

But she didn't think she could let him go, not just yet. She didn't _want_ to, God help her.

"I just don't know, Madge...I don't want things to end with him," she said, sighing angrily at how helpless she suddenly felt. "But I think I just need to calm down before I try to speak to him again."

Her friend nodded in understanding. "Yeah...I'm sure he's doing the same. I bet he regrets what he said. Just give him some time. I'm sure you two will work it out."

Despite how much she was still seething, Katniss tried to take heart in Madge's words. This wasn't the first argument they'd had; Peeta had a tendency to lash out and run away when he was upset. He couldn't keep doing that; he needed to learn how to just _talk_ to her before he exploded.

Peeta liked her; he loved her, even. He hadn't _actually_ broken up with her.

Right?


	15. Epilogue

_a/n: Here it is, the last chapter. I hope you all will be satisfied with how things end. I just want to say that I've been absolutely floored by the response to this story. I'm thrilled you guys enjoyed this story so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It really means a lot to me that you took the time to read and review. I will miss writing for this story, but it had to end.  
_

_Merry Christmas y'all!  
_

* * *

**Epilogue**

_Hey you :) __I'm in town this weekend, wanna hang out?_

Peeta made a face at his phone as he read the text. Leah. She couldn't seem to take a hint. He'd turned her down the last few times she'd texted him with the same message—he was always busy with med school, anyway, but he just didn't have any interest in hooking up with her anymore. They had dated casually a year ago; with all his work and studying, he just hadn't had much time for anything more serious. And then she had moved away, and they had both mutually decided to end things. But she would reach out to him when she was in the area, and, for a while, that had been fun. A day or two here and there with her was all he really had the energy for.

But when it became a chore, he knew it was time to end those occasional rendezvous, too. He'd thought he'd made that perfectly clear to her, but either she was oblivious or she was just choosing to ignore what he'd said. So when she'd text him, he'd simply declined with an excuse about being busy. And he was, usually.

Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. Then he quickly typed out a response: _Sorry, I've got to go to a wedding this weekend. _

Which was actually true. Finnick and Annie were getting married, and Peeta was the best man. And as ecstatic as he was for his friend, he was kind of dreading it. Because Katniss was going to be there.

Katniss, who he had not seen in six years, not since that night in her apartment when he'd stormed out on her. It had not been easy avoiding her, what with his best friend dating her good friend, but he'd always managed to find a convenient excuse to beg out of any social gatherings where he knew she was going to be in attendance. This became a lot easier to do once he started med school as he was at the hospital most of the time. Finnick was understanding at first, but after a year he'd started harassing Peeta about always bailing.

"Look, I know it's weird, but she's not mad anymore," he'd say, or, "It was a long time ago; she's dating someone else now," or, worse, "She asks about you a lot, you know. I think she really wants to be your friend."

Peeta knew his friend was just trying to be helpful, but his reassurances just made Peeta feel horrible all over again. He'd avoided seeing her or being anywhere near her in the beginning because he'd been hurt and angry and humiliated. But then he was just embarrassed. Six years later, and he was _still _embarrassed.

He'd made an ass out of himself the last time he'd seen her, and on top of that, he'd been a complete asshole to her. Why she'd want to know about him or have anything to do with him after the way he'd treated her, he had no idea.

He'd tried to get over her, he really had. And for a while, he thought he had succeeded. After he'd finally gotten over being so damn hurt about their breakup, he'd opened himself up to the possibility of dating again. Which had been weird at first. He hadn't actively set out to start a new relationship, but when he'd met Olivia in one of his classes his senior year, they'd hit it off immediately. It was scary, dating again when his only experience up until that point had gone so horribly awry, but he'd been determined to not make the same mistakes he'd made with Katniss. He didn't have sex with Olivia for a month after they'd started dating. Olivia had been nice and almost as reserved as him, so there'd been no pressure.

When they'd finally started having sex, it had been nothing like it had been with Katniss. Olivia was shy and quiet in bed. He found himself having to initiate every aspect of their sex life. At first, he had liked that. It was nice not feeling like he was always behind, like he was always trying to play catch-up to someone more experienced than him. So, they had very vanilla, pleasant-enough sex—that was fine. He was okay with that.

Until he wasn't. Olivia didn't like to do a lot of things in the bedroom; she wasn't much for experimenting. She wasn't comfortable giving blowjobs and only did it on rare occasions, usually when she was drunk. He could have lived with that, really, but she didn't even like for him to go down on her. Which had been really crushing to him because he wanted to do it for her; he _liked _doing it. He tried to get her to open up, to put her at ease, to interest her in new experiences, but then she would get upset and accuse him of pushing her, so he finally gave up. They stuck it out for the duration of their senior year until Peeta realized it just wasn't going to work; they weren't sexually compatible. When he'd rather just jerk off instead of have sex with his girlfriend, he knew there was a problem.

And that sucked because he had loved her. Or thought he had, anyway. She had loved him, too. She was the first girl to say it to him, and that had been thrilling and validating, especially after what had happened with Katniss.

But once they had broken up, he began to wonder if he'd actually loved her or just loved that she'd loved him. He hadn't been nearly as upset about ending things with her as he'd been with Katniss, and he didn't know what to make of that.

His next relationship had gone infinitely better. He met Clove the first year of UNC's MD program; they had a lot of the same courses together. She was a little quiet and intense, but once he got to know her better, he found her to be really witty and sarcastic, and he liked that. They hadn't started dating immediately; they were just friends at first, but they gravitated toward each other more and more. And then eventually they started having sex.

And it was good. Great, even. She was very open sexually and up to doing pretty much anything and everything. There were things she'd introduced him to that he'd only gotten a taste of with Katniss, and while he found that she was clearly more experienced than him in certain areas, he realized he didn't mind so much anymore. It wasn't a big deal to him, not like it had been with Katniss. But he was also realizing that the variable the first time around had been him. He was the one who'd been too insecure and unsure of himself when he'd dated Katniss. That had been his first relationship, and he'd learned a lot about himself since then, a lot about relationships; he liked to think he had matured a lot while he was with Olivia and Clove. Dating them—not to mention getting into med school—had done wonders to his self-esteem and confidence.

He'd been a child then, really, even at 20 years old. But he felt like he'd really grown into his skin since then. His time in med school had been extremely formative.

He and Clove hadn't broken up so much as they had just...petered out. He didn't love her, he realized, had never once even thought it. And she hadn't loved him either. They'd just been having fun, relieving a little stress. And there were no hard feelings when things ended; they'd both just gotten busier their second year, saw each other less. He was still friends with her; he would see her around the hospital, in some of the same rotations, and they were completely amicable with each other. He had liked that, liked that he could look back on a relationship for once and not feel like he was picking at a scab.

Things were a lot more hectic his last two years of med school; he just didn't have time for relationships, though he continued dating casually. He'd gotten more comfortable around women, more comfortable with himself, so he'd stopped putting a lot of pressure on himself when it came to flirting and having sex. If there was anything he'd taken from his relationship with Katniss, it was how to be safe. He supposed he should thank her for the invaluable lessons, but, well, that wasn't exactly something he could work into a conversation with her. And if he still couldn't even _think_ about her without the pangs of regret and guilt twisting his stomach, there was certainly no way he could talk to her—and definitely not about the sex they used to have.

He had no idea how he was going to deal with seeing her at the wedding. Tonight was the rehearsal dinner; Katniss was one of Annie's bridesmaids, so there was no way he could delay seeing her any longer. He was glad she wasn't the maid of honor, though; at least, he wouldn't be paired up with her for the ceremony. That would have been immensely uncomfortable and awkward and, yes, painful. For him, anyway. He wasn't hurt anymore, per se, but he ached for what could have been.

Many times in the past six years, though he had convinced himself he was over her, thoughts of her still crept in; he couldn't stop himself from wondering what could have happened between them if things had gone differently, if he had just been able to let go of his own shit and get out of his own head. He found himself constantly comparing the different women he dated to her; none of them ever lived up to the memory of her. He wasn't sure if his wistful recollections of Katniss were because he regretted how he'd acted or because he still loved her. It scared him to think it might be the latter. Often, he looked back at their time together just utterly confused. Had it been real, what he'd felt for her? It seemed so long ago now, yet the memory of how she'd made him feel, how strongly he'd felt for her, still felt so _present_. Was it real, or had his regrets in retrospect simply heightened how he remembered his feelings?

Peeta grunted in amusement suddenly, digging his thumb and index finger into his eyes; for not having seen or talked to her in six god damn years, he sure spent a lot of time thinking about her.

The vibration of his phone on the coffee table brought him back to himself, and he snatched it up to read Leah's response: _Oh boo. :( __ Next time then!_

Shit. He didn't want to be a complete dick to her, but she couldn't seem to take no for an answer.

Never mind, he would deal with her later; he really needed to get going now. He started to stuff his phone into his pocket when it vibrated again. Exasperated, he groaned loudly to himself, but when he looked at his phone again, he was relieved to see it was only Finnick.

_You're coming to the rehearsal tonight, right?_

He rolled his eyes. Finnick's hyperactive worries about his attendance weren't without basis; Peeta had missed the engagement party, which he'd felt terrible about, but he was so deep into his last year of med school, he just couldn't afford the time off—and, okay, he still hadn't been ready to face Katniss yet. Anyway, Peeta had designed the cake for the wedding himself; he definitely had to be there tomorrow for that.

_Yes. I swear I will be there. About to leave right now. Calm your tits. _

His friend's response was immediate. _Good, just making sure you weren't planning to bail AGAIN. Annie will flay you alive if you miss this shit. She's scaring me right now. Remind me why I'm doing this again._

Peeta grinned to himself. _Cuz you've already spent too much money to back out now. And something about loving her more than anything, I guess._

_Ah yeah, I knew there was a reason. Ok, get your ass out here already._

Pocketing his phone, Peeta pushed up off his couch and grabbed his keys. He glanced around his apartment to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything, and then he ran his hand through his hair, trying to steel himself for what awaited him. He guessed he couldn't avoid her forever.

It was time.

* * *

Peeta was certain he hadn't felt this nervous in years; in fact, he was pretty sure only Katniss could make him this anxious. He felt 20 all over again walking into The Cotton Room, the venue where Finnick and Annie were holding their wedding. He took the elevator to the second floor and wandered into the event room. He licked his lips and tried to stop his eyes from automatically seeking her out. Finnick found him first, squinting at him from where he stood with Annie and the venue owners, Cinna and Portia.

"Peeta? Peeta Mellark? Is that you?" he called across the room, a little too loudly, and Peeta chuckled sheepishly, embarrassed by the number of eyes that suddenly darted toward him. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he strolled up to Finnick and Annie.

"It hasn't been that long," he griped good-naturedly, slapping his friend on the back when Finnick pulled him into a hug. When he looked at Annie next, she beamed at him and offered her cheek when he leaned in to kiss it.

"I don't know, Peeta—I hardly recognized you with this whole mountain man look you've got going on these days," she teased, and he scratched the beard he was sporting.

"Yeah, I thought I'd really class up your wedding photos."

Cinna interrupted in that moment, turning his sharp, curious gaze on Peeta. "Is this the best man?" he asked, and Peeta nodded, shaking Cinna then Portia's hands. "Okay, good, we should get this rehearsal started, and then we can move on to dinner."

"Just tell me what to do," Peeta responded easily, following Portia as she directed him to the other groomsmen. There were four altogether: him, Thresh, Thom and Finnick's high school friend, Evan. As the best man, Peeta was paired up with Annie's older sister, Molly, her matron of honor.

Peeta greeted the other groomsmen enthusiastically—he didn't get to see Thresh and Thom as much anymore, but they'd gotten to hang out last month for Finnick's bachelor party, after Peeta had graduated. As they talked and caught up, Peeta couldn't stop his eyes from drifting across the room, searching out the group of bridesmaids, searching for her face.

And there she was. She was laughing with Johanna and Madge, but, almost as if she could sense his stare, she lifted her gaze to his, and their eyes locked. His heart fluttered dangerously, the silver heat of her eyes like quicksand pulling him in. Oh, God, she was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous. The images in his head, the sketches he'd drawn over the years in the vain attempts to rid her from his mind, did not do her justice. Her laughter died in her throat, then, and his stomach twisted as he wondered what was going through her mind in that moment, what she was thinking as she looked at him for the first time since college.

But then her mouth quirked into a smile, a soft, lopsided smile, and her eyes crinkled. He was suddenly so grateful for the beard, hoping it concealed the flush of his cheeks. Meekly, he smiled in return—or at least, he thought he did; his lips felt numb all of a sudden. He had to avert his eyes after that, focusing on Thresh as he spoke, replaying her smile over and over in his head.

Fuck, the effect she had on him, _still_, after all these years.

Portia called for everyone's attention so she could start the rehearsal. She and Cinna started to line them up at the back of the room. As they shuffled into place, Peeta saw Finnick's mother and touched her shoulder to get her attention. When she looked at him, her eyes lit up. "Peeta, it's good to see you again!" she exclaimed as she leaned up to hug him.

"It's good to see you, Ms. Odair. How are you doing?" he asked, accepting the motherly kiss on his cheek. She huffed, blowing some hair out of her face.

"Oh, I'm fine. I'm absolutely thrilled for Finn and Annie, but the drive up here took it out of me, so I'm ready to crash after this." She grabbed his shoulders, surveying him. "Jeez Louise, Peeta, you seem so much broader than I remember! I'm glad to see you're still taking care of yourself. Are you eating okay? I know how terrible hospital food can be..."

He laughed, embarrassed yet touched by her concern. "Yes, ma'am, I do all right. The food's not the best, but I still find some time to cook, at least."

"Good, good. Finn told me you designed the cake for their wedding."

Peeta nodded. "I did. They commissioned it through my parents' bakery, and I've been working on it specifically."

She smiled widely. "I can't wait to see it! I'm sure it's going to be incredible."

He shrugged modestly. "I guess we'll see," he said, giving her one last hug before he moved to his designated spot with Molly. They greeted each other amicably enough—he only knew her in passing, really. Johanna, who stood behind them next to Thresh, shot him an amused look.

"Hey, there, Mellark," she said, loud enough to attract Katniss' attention behind her; she looked straight at him then, her hand already curled around the arm of her ceremony partner, Thom, as they waited for the rehearsal to start. Peeta swallowed nervously, his eyes inadvertently catching hers before he glanced back at Johanna's face.

"Hey, Johanna," he said as casually as he could manage, then he looked back at Katniss, who was still watching him, one eyebrow just slightly arched. _Just say it; spit it out, you dumbass, _he chided himself. He licked his lips, forcing the words out before he could lose his nerve. "Hi."

Well, it was a start.

Katniss smiled again, just as softly as before. "Hey, Peeta," she returned, and his pulse throbbed in his neck at the way her tongue caressed his name. But then Cinna was snapping his fingers for their attention, and Peeta turned back around to watch Annie's parents and then Finnick's mother walk down the aisle toward the officiant.

After that point, it was nearly impossible not to look at her. He tried to pay attention to Cinna and Portia as they ran through the breakdown of the ceremony while they all stood in their specified places on either side of Finnick and Annie, but his gaze kept drifting over to her. Sometimes, they would make eye contact briefly before their eyes flitted away; other times, they would hold the other's gaze for a beat too long, and she would smile slightly at him, almost as if she was fighting it. Warmth would spread through him, and after the initial alarm at being caught staring, he finally started smiling back at her.

All his concerns about seeing her again seemed silly now. She didn't look at him with resentment or barely suppressed annoyance. He probably would have deserved it, honestly, for having been too cowardly to face her back then, but he was flabbergasted by her reactions to him. It was almost like she was..._happy _to see him. Hopeful, even.

Peeta shook that thought away immediately. Hopeful for what? That was a dumb thing to consider. For all he knew, she still had a boyfriend. She was being friendly, that was all. She wasn't mad at him anymore; she probably hadn't even thought about that night in years. It was stupid of him to think she thought of him with the same frequency that he thought about her.

At least, the wedding wouldn't be uncomfortable now. Maybe they could even be civil toward each other...like old friends. He could deal with that. That would be enough for him.

Peeta glanced back at her; she was absently pulling on her braid, and when she noticed him looking again, she grinned, a little wider this time.

Damn damn damn.

During the dinner that followed, they didn't interact, and he did his best to not stare at her so much, to actually engage himself in the conversations around him, with the friends he didn't get to see as much anymore.

Afterward, once dinner had been eaten and a few bottles of wine emptied, they all began to take their leave, ambling downstairs and lingering in the lobby. Peeta knew he had to get up early to make sure he finished the cake, for which he would have to drive to his parents' bakery, so he started to take his leave. He hugged Finnick and Annie again, shook hands with Thom and Thresh and waved farewell to those who remained, but then Katniss was at his side, standing so close to him when he turned, he nearly jumped back in shock. With a bemused smile, she touched his arm lightly, her fingers lighting on the bare skin of his forearm, right beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his dress shirt, and he had to actively ignore the electrical current that seemed to radiate out from her fingertips. "It was good seeing you again, Peeta," she said.

His mouth twitched into a shy, nervous smile. "Uh, yeah, good seeing you, too...Katniss."

He wasn't prepared for what she did next; her body moved closer to his as she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck, leaning into a hug. He was almost stunned into inaction, his whole body flushing with heat at the feel of her body pressed against his, her breath warm on his neck. Fighting the shock, he anchored his own arms around her waist and squeezed her close. His hands splayed against the curve of her back, and he inadvertently nuzzled his face in her hair before he realized what he was doing and forced himself to turn his head away.

But not before he got a whiff of that scent he knew so well, that still haunted him. Ebony and vanilla. It made his groin stir. Shit.

"Maybe we can catch up tomorrow at the wedding," she suggested in a quieter voice, already stepping back, pulling away from him too soon.

He had to shake the haze from his mind, retracting his arms from around her. He stuffed his hands in his pockets so he couldn't be tempted to reach out for her again. "Uh, yeah, sure." _Absolutely, definitely, whatever you want_. "That would be nice."

She smiled, her hand trailing down his arm again. "Great. See you tomorrow, Peeta." Nodding his goodbye, he walked away and told himself not to look back.

But he didn't stop thinking about her all night.

* * *

Peeta put the finishing touches on the wedding cake by early afternoon the next day, and he arranged for a couple of his father's employees to deliver it to the venue; he had to get going so he could get cleaned up and changed and then head over to the venue himself. The ceremony started at 6:30, but Finnick wanted his groomsmen to hang out with him beforehand.

Once Peeta was back home and showered, he slipped into his slacks, undershirt and dress shoes but saved the rest of his attire to put on at the venue. It was hot as hell outside, anyway. He drove the 10 minutes to the venue and quickly found the other guys inside. Finnick was in good spirits, if a little anxious, and they just shot the shit for the next couple of hours, lending their help with getting everything set up when needed.

When it was finally time to start, Peeta was relieved, though if it was more for Finnick's sake or for his own—because he was eager to see Katniss again—he didn't know. He tried not to think too much about it; that had always been his problem with her in the past: He let his mind run wild with unvoiced concerns and doubts.

He was better about that now, or at least tried to be. There was still that niggling voice in the back of his head that wondered if she had truly meant what she'd said the night before, about wanting to catch up. He tried not to get his hopes up, but...when he saw her in the hallway as they lined up, her hair swept up off her olive-skinned shoulders, left bare by her short, strapless forest-green dress, he couldn't help the way his stomach flipped. She caught his eye and smiled sweetly, waving her bouquet at him in greeting.

His breathing was shallow, and he had to force himself to take deeper breaths. But he smiled at her, anyway, holding her gaze for a long moment, longer than he would have in the past, longer than he rightfully should, he was sure, before he took Molly's arm and faced forward.

He was aware of her presence throughout the entire ceremony, but he kept his eyes on Finnick and Annie this time—for the most part. Their vows were sweet and funny, and it was rude not to pay attention to the couple of the hour, right? He managed to keep his eyes trained on them until the ceremony was over and they followed the bride and groom down the aisle. He couldn't help sneaking a glance at Katniss then, and she winked at him. He ducked his head but grinned widely at his shoes as they marched out of the hall and into a separate room to take photos while the staff set up for the reception.

They didn't speak before the reception, however; most of the attention was directed toward the newly married couple, congratulations and hugs abounding. Peeta had never seen Finnick so elated, and he and Annie couldn't stop touching each other. It was inspiring and oddly comforting to watch.

After about an hour, they filed back into the reception area and took their seats at a table in the center after they were introduced. Peeta was uncomfortable with all the attention just walking in and was already dreading the speech he was going to have to give later as the best man; he was relieved when a server came around and began filling their glasses with wine. He hated wine, but it would have to do; he'd have to hit the bar later once the servers started bringing out the food.

A local folk-rock band Finnick and Annie had hired for their wedding was playing some background music. From behind the rim of his wine glass, he surveyed the table. Finnick was to his left, and since Peeta didn't have a date of his own, Thom sat to his right with his boyfriend. Katniss was on the opposite end of the table, on Annie's side; she was surrounded by Molly's husband and Johanna.

Peeta's heart palpitated in his chest, hard, when he considered what that could mean, that she wasn't currently seeing anybody.

His attention was drawn back to the band when the lead singer began to speak. "Now it's time for Finnick and Annie's first dance as husband and wife. I believe their friend has agreed to sing their song, so if she could come up here now..."

Peeta looked around perplexed until he saw Katniss stand up from the table and make her way to the front where the band was set up. His eyes widened as she took her place in front of the microphone and flashed the singer a grateful smile when he lowered it for her. Her face was flushed red, and she looked nervous. She cleared her throat quietly, watching Finnick and Annie take to the middle of the floor.

"I must really love you guys if I agreed to sing in front of everybody," Katniss joked lightly, brushing strands of hair from her face and looking to the band behind her. The music started after a moment, the wail of the guitar reverberating around the large hall, and soon Katniss' voice joined in:

"_Standing on a hill, staring at a mountain  
Swallows dive and turn,  
Trying to catch what we can't see  
Sure ain't the first time, hope it ain't the last time_

_"When all the work is done_  
_By the light of the setting sun_  
_We see what we've become_  
_Two of the lucky ones."_

Everyone's eyes were on the married couple as they danced to the music, but Peeta's eyes were riveted to the woman behind the mic, a woman whose voice he'd never really heard before this moment, not like this.

"_The wind is gonna blow,  
The trees are gonna sway in kind  
And, babe, I know you know,  
They don't have to try  
Sure ain't the first time, hope it ain't the last time_

_"When all the work is done_  
_By the light of the setting sun_  
_We see what we've become_  
_Two of the lucky ones."_

His heart was in his throat, the velvety, dulcet tones of her voice seeming to rub him raw. Katniss clung to the mic stand as she sang, swaying slightly in time with the rhythm. She kept her sights trained on Finnick and Annie as they rocked each other in a small circle, nuzzling each other's neck and whispering amongst themselves. Once, she looked over at Peeta, her gray eyes and voice pinning him to his spot. She smiled softly, and this time he didn't blush. He didn't even look away—he couldn't.

"_For the very first time,  
There's no words to be found  
Opened up our eyes,  
There was love all around_

"_When all the work is done  
By the light of the setting sun  
We see what we've become  
Two of the lucky ones."_

Oh, God, it was real. What he felt for her was real. He could feel the enormity of it now, the past, the present, all at once, and his doubts that had accumulated over the years all felt so insignificant now.

It had been real. And nothing had been more real since.

As the song ended, Finnick dipped Annie then kissed her soundly. Everyone applauded, and even Finnick, after he'd righted his wife, stuffed his fingers into his mouth to whistle sharply then cheered for Katniss. Peeta couldn't bring himself to clap; his hands were limp in his lap, his whole body tingling with warmth. Katniss stepped away from the mic and gave a slight bow before hurrying back to her seat, as fast as her heels would allow.

The dances continued, first with Annie and her father, then Finnick and his mother, but Peeta just stared stupidly at his empty plate, numbly taking sips of his wine every once in a while.

He hadn't felt this rattled and dazed in a long time, not since the first day of their anatomy lab, when she'd sat down next him and changed his world completely.

He had no idea what to do now.

* * *

"Can I get a Yuengling?" Peeta asked the bartender, who nodded and grabbed a bottle from under the bar. He popped open the cap and slid it over to Peeta. "Thanks, man," he said, stuffing a couple bucks into a jar for a tip. Then he moved down to the end of the bar to sit on one of the stools so he wouldn't be in anyone's way as he sipped his beer.

"Hey, Mellark," a gruff voice said to his right, and he glanced over, reigning in his surprise when he saw the tall man next to him.

"Uh, hey, Gale," he greeted uncomfortably, gripping his beer. He had no idea how to act around Katniss' best friend, what to expect; how much had she told him about their breakup? Everything, he was sure. Was he pissed? It was years ago, but Peeta was suddenly very nervous as he regarded the older man.

Gale smiled tightly at him after he'd ordered a beer; he shifted the dark-haired toddler in his arms, who had his pudgy arms wrapped around his Gale's neck. "And, uh, who's this?" Peeta asked, smiling slightly as he nodded to the little boy.

Gale's smile brightened, and he palmed the back of the toddler's head. "This is my son Zeke. Can you say hi, Zeke?" he asked, his voice softer, and the little boy stared wide-eyed at Peeta, burying his face against his father's chest. Gale chuckled lowly. "Sorry, he's tired. It's way past his bedtime."

Glancing between father and son, Peeta smiled genuinely this time. "It's okay. He's really cute. Man, he looks just like Madge." Peeta knew they had gotten married a few years ago; Finnick and Annie had attended the wedding.

Gale grinned, nodding his thanks to the bartender when he grabbed his beer. "Yeah, got her temperament, too. If he didn't have my hair, I might have to wonder," he joked. "Well, we're probably gonna be leaving soon. It was nice seeing you."

"Yeah, you too. Bye," Peeta replied, tipping his beer in farewell.

Zeke straightened suddenly, his face lighting up. "Bye bye!" he chirped, waving frantically, and both Peeta and Gale laughed.

"Yes, that's right, bye bye," Gale cooed as he whisked the child away, back to his wife. Peeta turned back to the bar, shaking his head. Why had he been so threatened by him before? Gale was an imposing sort of guy, but he seemed harmless now. Peeta had to laugh at himself, at his stupidity in his younger days.

"Your cake was lovely," an all-too-familiar voice said in his ear, and his body jerked in surprise. Everything inside him tightened as he craned his neck around to find a smiling Katniss at his side.

He tried to fight his blush. "Um, thank you."

She sidled up to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. Then she turned back to him as she waited. "I mean, it looked really beautiful, but I think it tasted even better," she continued, leaning against the bar.

Peeta swigged his beer to give himself a moment to compose himself. He didn't want to revert back to his stuttering, shrinking self, but it was hard not to in her presence. His wiped his mouth with the back of his hand after he'd pulled the bottle away. "Thank you. I'm glad you liked it. I just wanted to give Finn and Annie the best because they deserve it," he said carefully, glancing between her and his beer. She just smiled and nodded in agreement, thanking the bartender when he presented her drink to her. Peeta licked his lips and forced himself to say his next words, "You sounded beautiful earlier. I was...stunned. I mean, I've just, uh, I've never heard you sing...like that...before..."

Well, that didn't come out quite as eloquently as he had wanted, but she blushed lightly, anyway, sucking the tiny black straw of her drink between her lips. She responded after she'd taken a sip. "Thanks. I haven't been that nervous in a while," she said with an airy laugh. "I kind of hate singing in front of crowds, but, well, I couldn't exactly refuse when they asked..."

He was glad she hadn't. "Well, I guess I can see why you never pursued that singing career, after all," he cracked timidly, picking at the label on his bottle. Her eyes widened, and she made a face.

"Oh, God, you remember that?" she asked with an embarrassed laugh. He smiled.

"Of course." _I remember everything about you. _He swallowed those words with his next gulp of beer. "Uh, you know, I never did get to listen to that EP of yours..."

She was already shaking her head. "And you never will. That thing is never seeing the light of day again."

"That's too bad," he said, grinning slightly, and she just rolled her eyes.

"So we've established what I'm _not_ doing," she started, taking a sip of her gin and tonic. "Tell me what you've been up to."

Peeta twisted in the stool, setting his beer down and running a hand through his hair. "Well, uh, I finished med school last month, so I've finally got a little bit of time off."

She lifted her eyebrows. "Congratulations! I mean, I knew you were in med school, but that's great to hear you're done. What do you have planned next?"

He dropped his gaze shyly, picking at his bottle label again. "I'm, uh, well, I start the pediatric residency program at Duke in July. I've got, uh, orientation in a couple weeks, so I'm just enjoying the very minor reprieve before the craziness starts..."

Her mouth was hanging open. "Oh, my God, at Duke? And in pediatrics—wow, that's incredible!" And then she stepped toward him, between his legs, to hug him, and he was rendered momentarily speechless as he relished the weight of her body against his. "Congratulations, Peeta. I know how much you wanted to do that. I'm really happy for you."

She stepped away, and already he missed her warmth. "Um, thank you," he said sheepishly. He was touched she remembered and was excited for him; his mother hadn't been at all, when she'd realized he wasn't going to do cardiology or neurology, like she had wanted. But he didn't care anymore; he had learned to disregard her opinion a while ago. "What about you? What are you doing?"

She smiled brilliantly, swirling the ice in her drink with her straw. "I'm a research scientist at UNC. I work at the Center for Infectious Diseases."

"Wow," he breathed, awed. "So you're doing what you wanted to do. That's really fantastic. Congratulations." He wanted to hug her again but thought it might be odd after she'd just hugged him.

She shrugged demurely, swallowing some of her drink. "Thank you. It's good, rewarding work, so I'm happy." Nodding, Peeta smiled at her and sipped his beer. Katniss' eyes glinted with amusement then, her mouth listing into a crooked smile. "So, am I supposed to call you Dr. Mellark now?"

He grinned bashfully, and a thought came to him so suddenly, he almost balked outwardly. He couldn't say that to her. Could he? He licked his moist lips nervously and hardened his resolve. "You can call me whatever you want," he murmured, his tone light and playful to mask his nerves; he braced himself for her reaction, but her eyebrows shot up, pleasant surprise dancing in her eyes. She laughed heartily, her laughter tinkling over the music.

"I'll keep that in mind, Peeta," she returned once her laughter faded, lifting her glass to her mouth. She nipped the straw between her teeth and worried it absently. Then she pursed her lips around it and drank, squinting at him thoughtfully. He started to sweat, uncomfortable with her penetrating gaze. Maybe he shouldn't have said what he'd said—he was out of line trying to flirt with her.

But she smiled, setting her drink down. "You know...you're different," she mused. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I mean, not completely. You've got the same kind eyes," she said softly, meeting his gaze. "But you're different in other ways. You didn't even break a sweat giving your speech."

He frowned as he considered her words. "Is that...bad?"

Katniss shook her head. "No, not at all. Just noticing, I guess..." She grinned, a little teasingly, and grazed his beard with her fingers. "I mean, this is different. I like this." She tugged on the scruff on his chin lightly to emphasize her point. Heat spread through him at the intimacy of the gesture—but not from embarrassment.

Peeta shrugged, willing his quickening heart to slow. "It's mostly just out of laziness that I haven't shaved it."

"Well, I think you should keep it. Whatever my opinion counts for, I mean."

A lot, he wanted to tell her, but he just smiled at her. There was something in her eyes, her expression, he couldn't quite read. It made him feel vulnerable, and he took another swig of his beer to distract himself. Being with her, it was impossible not to think about six years ago, the last time they were together. He thought about the rest of their relationship, too, but the way it had ended tainted it all—it was a weight that hung between them, even now. He needed to say something, to clear the air. He needed to own up to the things he'd said, to acknowledge the things he'd done.

"Katniss..." he faltered, anxious energy surging through him. He made himself look at her, and she watched him curiously. "For what it's worth...I'm sorry. About how I ended things between us back then. I was...a huge dick to you. I mean, I was just an idiot about everything, really, and I just hate the way I left that night. So I'm sorry...and I'm sorry it took me so long to even apologize. I guess I was too busy being wounded about everything."

She looked stunned, and she didn't even speak for a moment. Was this the first time he'd ever driven her to silence? He swallowed thickly, his throat and tongue feeling dry all of a sudden—but funnily enough, his palms felt damp and clammy. He wiped them on his thighs and opened his mouth to apologize for drudging it all up when she finally chuckled incredulously, waving her hand.

"I—well, I appreciate your apology, Peeta. I really do. I wasn't even expecting that. It was so long ago, you know? It's in the past now. It's okay." She chewed on her lip as she considered something, then she touched his wrist. "But I'm sorry, too. I was pretty abrasive back then, wasn't I? I made you uncomfortable so many times, I'm sure, and I didn't even realize it..."

He tried to smile, his gaze lingering on her hand on his wrist. "Well...you made me more comfortable than uncomfortable, at least. Not your fault I had no idea what I was doing. You were just trying to help, I know..." He thought his tone was light, but her mouth drooped into a small frown.

"I wasn't trying to _help _you, Peeta. I really liked you," she said sincerely. His breathing shallowed at her words. "I mean, I just wanted you to..." She looked around then and lowered her voice, her fingertips dancing across the delicate skin of his wrist and making him shiver, "to enjoy things with me. To enjoy being with me. That was all. I'm sorry that I made you feel otherwise."

He felt lightheaded, and he wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or her touch or her admission. He wasn't even sure what to say, so he just blurted the truth, "I did. Enjoy being with you, I mean. A lot." He didn't think that fact hadn't been completely obvious at the time, but he wanted to say it out loud, anyway.

She quirked an eyebrow and grinned. "Yeah? Me, too." She withdrew her hand to grab her drink and down the rest of it. Sucking an ice cube into her mouth, she crunched it between her teeth and shot him an inquisitive look. "So, Peeta...Are you, ah, seeing anybody right now?" she asked lightly. His heart stuttered in his chest, and he shook his head silently. Her smile widened. "Good...good."

His eyes were wide as he took her in, and he wanted to ask her what that meant, exactly, but then there was an announcement over the sound system about the bouquet toss. Katniss groaned, rolling her eyes. "I hate these things. Maybe they won't notice I'm missing..." Peeta glanced at the gathering crowd of women on the dance floor, positioning themselves behind Annie. Katniss peered over her shoulder and then back at the bar, pushing her empty glass away. "At least, that means the night's almost over. I can't wait to get out of these heels..."

His eyes widened as his eyes automatically dropped to her feet. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. I didn't even offer you my seat. I'm an idiot—" He made to stand up, but she just pushed him back down and smiled.

"Don't worry about it. I sit all day in a lab; I don't mind a little standing. But I think I'm gonna take these off, anyway." Balancing herself on his thigh, she bent down slightly to slide her heels off. Peeta tried not to think about how close her face was to his crotch, but the way she firmly gripped his leg was too hard to ignore. Without thinking, he grabbed her arm to help steady her, and she smiled at him gratefully as she straightened up, her heels dangling from her fingers. "Thanks."

But she didn't move her hand from his leg. In fact, she flattened her fingers over the taut muscles of his thigh, her thumb rubbing back and forth lightly. The gentle, hypnotic motion was making his dick harden in his slacks. He briefly wondered if he should push her hand away or shift to hide his growing erection, but instead he just slid his hand down her arm to cover her hand, squeezing her fingers slightly. They just stared at each other wordlessly, unfazed by the shrieking from the dance floor as the women scrambled to catch the bouquet.

What was she thinking? He wanted to know. Her eyes were dark, and her tongue darted out periodically to wet her lips. He thought he recognized that look; he saw it many times when they were dating, saw it many times, still, even after they'd broken up, whenever he'd close his eyes and stroked himself. But it couldn't still mean what it meant when they were 20—could it? It was foolish to hope...

He vaguely registered the call for the single men for the garter toss. Katniss arched an eyebrow. "Do you want to go do that?" she asked, but she moved closer to him, stepping between his legs.

He shook his head, not breaking eye contact. "Nope. Staying right here," he replied, slightly dazed, and her gray eyes flashed with satisfaction. Her fingers curled against his skin, her nails digging into his flesh through his pants. His cock twitched.

"Me, too," she breathed, and he could see the red flush of her cheeks and chest. He wondered if it was from him, if he was having this effect on her. "Peeta..." she hummed, watching him empty the last of his beer down his throat. "Do you live nearby?"

His hand tightened over hers, and he carefully set the bottle back down. "Yes." She just smiled, resting her free hand on his other thigh. He felt like his vision was swimming, but he knew it wasn't from the alcohol. His hand shot out instinctively, sliding around her waist to draw her closer. "Would you, uh...like to come over after this?"

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, giving a diminutive nod of her head. "Very much so."

* * *

After the reception, after all the guests had seen Finnick and Annie off as they headed to the airport for their honeymoon, Peeta and Katniss drove to his apartment separately so they didn't have to leave their cars at the venue. He was glad he had those few minutes alone, to think about what was about to happen, what he had willingly agreed to.

Was he making a mistake? He didn't want to fall back into the same pattern with Katniss, but he couldn't deny the pull she had on him. Thinking back on it all now, he realized no one had ever affected him the way she did. It had been terrifying then, the feeling of helplessness loving her and wanting her brought him.

But he was different now. Giving himself over to someone so completely wasn't as scary as it used to be, and this time he didn't find himself worrying whether she felt the same. If she didn't, that was okay; it still didn't negate what he felt. Six years had passed, and more than anything, he just wanted to get to know her again. Better, even. To see if he could read her as well as he thought he could. Because he was realizing now, she wasn't as much of a mystery as he used to think she was. His own doubts and insecurities had clouded his understanding of her before, but he thought he could understand her now.

No, this wasn't a mistake. He wanted this; he wanted her, over and over again. And he trusted the sincerity of her words, her feelings, finally. It was freeing.

So back at his apartment, he felt light as air, buzzing with confidence as he led her inside his apartment. "Do you want anything to drink?" he offered, dropping his keys on a console table and draping his jacket on the back of a chair. "Or eat, even?"

"Peeta."

He turned around to look at her, something in her voice tugging at his gut. Katniss dropped her shoes by the door, but she didn't move. She stared at him imploringly. "I just want you." She never skimped on her words.

He was in front of her in an instant, his hands cupping her face to tilt it upward. Her eyes were heavily lidded, her breath warm and quick against his face as it hovered just mere inches from her own. His thumbs smoothed across her cheeks, then he molded his lips to hers; she opened her mouth eagerly, meeting every stroke of his tongue with her own. She moved her tongue exactly how he remembered. Katniss moaned low in her throat and fisted her hands in the sides of his shirt to pull him closer. Pinning her against the door, he poured everything into that kiss, all his longing and frustration and desire, everything that had festered inside him for the better part of a decade.

When he broke the kiss, it was to find the pulse point under her jaw he knew so well. She was panting heavily, her hands grabbing at his chest, his shoulders. "Oh, God, I've missed you," she murmured, and he sucked harder on her skin, scraping his teeth down her neck to nip at her collarbone. She whimpered when his hands slid up her ribcage to roughly cup her breasts through her dress.

He couldn't wait anymore; he needed to touch her, to feel the moist heat of her against his palm. He tried to slip his hand under her dress, but the tightness of her skirt made it impossible to part her legs enough to move his fingers over her the way he wanted to, so he yanked her dress up to her hips and pulled her panties down to her knees. Then his hand was between her thighs again, curling over her center, and she gasped. He traced his fingers over her folds and her clit, familiarizing himself with her again. He could feel the wetness seeping out of her, and he sought it out, thrusting two fingers inside her, pumping them hard and fast. Katniss just grunted sharply, holding onto his shoulders and letting her head fall against the door.

She squeaked hoarsely when his slick fingers touched on her clit next; Peeta teased it only briefly, circling it lightly with his index finger before he began stroking it deftly. In just the way he remembered her liking it. "Peeta, oh God, Peeta," she mewled, her hips rocking against his hand as she sought her relief. When he heard her breath hitch in her throat, he kissed her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth to muffle her loud moans as she came, quivering and panting against him.

He didn't give her time to recover, ripping her underwear off completely and hoisting her up into his arms. She wrapped her arms and legs around him weakly, dropping her forehead to his shoulder while he carried her into his bedroom where he dropped her onto his bed unceremoniously. She struggled to sit up—to assist him or undress him, he wasn't sure—but he just pushed her back down onto the mattress, covering her body with his own. "Relax. I can handle this," he whispered in her ear, sliding his hands around her back to tug the zipper of her dress down; she arched underneath him so he could slide it down more easily. When he sat back to pull her dress down, she watched him with glassy eyes. Lifting her legs up, she smiled at him as he yanked it off her feet and dropped it to the floor.

"Peeta, you're still fully clothed. Come here..." She beckoned for him, but he wrapped his hand around hers and pinned it down beside her head.

"I said, relax. I'll deal with myself in a moment," he assured, kissing her again. Her free hand came up to fist in his hair as she slanted her head to kiss him deeper, but he broke away quickly. She whimpered in frustration until his lips kissed a trail down her chin and her neck, his beard rubbing against her skin.

"Definitely—definitely keep the beard, Peeta," she moaned, squirming underneath him. She pressed her hips to his, and he couldn't stop his involuntary thrusts against her. He finally released her hand so he could push the cups of her strapless bra down. Her dark, puckered nipples were enticing, calling for his mouth; he obliged, swirling his tongue around one before he sucked it between his lips. Katniss groaned, her legs coming up around his waist to anchor him there. His hand teased under the cup over her other breast, massaging the fleshy weight under his palm; he circled her nipple with his thumb, rolling it under the callused pad.

Then he caught her other nipple between his front teeth, biting down. Katniss gasped, giving a rasping, startled cry, and he waited to see if she objected, if he had misremembered this about her...

But she urged him on, bucking up against him harder and threading her fingers through his hair. "Peeta," she gasped pleadingly, and he smirked to himself. Perfect.

His hands fumbled behind her with the clasp of her bra, but he unhooked it quickly. Instead of pulling it away, he gripped her bra in his hands and forced her to raise her arms over her head. He brought his mouth back to hers, stroking her tongue lazily with his while he pressed her wrists together. He wrapped the bra around them, efficiently tying the ends together into a tight knot.

Katniss seemed to finally register what he was doing, unsealing her lips from his to glance up at her bound wrists. When she looked back at him, her eyes were round. "What are you doing?" she whispered, but her voice trembled with excitement.

He just grinned and sat back, finally working his loose tie over his head. He briefly considered it; he could use it as a blindfold. But he decided against it, tossing it to the floor. Next time, definitely.

"I've got some things I wanna show you," he told her simply, his voice gravelly, and her mouth parted in anticipation. Standing up, Peeta slowly, slowly, unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders. She watched him anxiously, her beautiful, naked body stretched out before him. She kept her arms obediently over her head without even having to be asked. He knew the knot wasn't that tight; if she really tried, she could work it loose. But she didn't.

"Peeta," she finally whined breathlessly when he had his undershirt off. She flexed her knees, planting her feet on the bed. His eyes darted to the juncture of her thighs, which glistened with her want, and he licked his lips eagerly. But then he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Glancing around his dimly lit bedroom, Peeta found what he was looking for; he grabbed a belt that hung from the doorknob of his closet. He folded it in half and grabbed both ends in his hands, turning back to her. Her eyes widened even more when he cracked the belt lightly, her thighs clenching together in response. He crawled back onto the bed beside her, dragging the loop of the belt between her breasts and down her stomach; the muscles of her abdomen contracted with her sharp intake of breath. He just smirked.

"I'm gonna have so much fun with you, Katniss."

* * *

_Thanks again for reading, you guys! FYI, the song Katniss sings is "Two of the Lucky Ones" by The Droge and Summers Blend. Come find me on tumblr: **fuckingplebe**._


End file.
